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If a lump of soot falls into the soup and you cannot conveniently get it out, stir it well in and it will give the soup a French taste.
Jonathan Swift
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Jonathan Swift
Age: 77 †
Born: 1667
Born: November 30
Died: 1745
Died: October 19
Essayist
Human Rights Activist
Novelist
Opinion Journalist
Pamphleteer
Philosopher
Poet
Priest
Prosaist
Public Figure
Dublin city
Isaac Bickerstaff
M. B. Drapier
Lemuel Gulliver
Simon Wagstaff
Wells
Soup
Well
Falls
Giving
French
Cooking
Soot
Taste
Conveniently
Fall
Lump
Cannot
Lumps
Give
Stir
More quotes by Jonathan Swift
And, is not Virtue in Mankind The Nutriment that feeds the Mind?
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When men grow virtuous in their old age, they only make a sacrifice to God of the devil's leavings.
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What poet would not grieve to see His brother write as well as he? But rather than they should excel, He'd wish his rivals all in Hell.
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Two women seldom grow intimate but at the expense of a third person.
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Faith, that's as well said as if I had said it myself.
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That the universe was formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms, I will no more believe than that the accidental jumbling of the alphabet would fall into a most ingenious treatise of philosophy.
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Desponding Phyllis was endu'd With ev'ry Talent of a Prude, She trembled when a Man drew near Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear: If o'er against her you were plac'd She durst not look above your Waist
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The tucked-up sempstress walks with hasty strides, While streams run down her oil'd umbrella's sides.
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Vanity is a mark of humility rather than of pride.
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A ridiculous passion which hath no being but in play-books and romances.
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Bread is the staff of life.
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Wise people are never less alone than when they are alone.
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The system of morality to be gathered from the ancient sages falls very short of that delivered in the gospel.
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That incessant envy wherewith the common rate of mankind pursues all superior natures to their own.
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Fond of those hives where folly reigns, And cards and scandal are the chains, Where the pert virgin slights a name, And scorns to redden into shame.
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War: that mad game the world so loves to play.
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Sweeping from butcher's stalls, dung, guts, and blood, Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in mud, Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down the flood.
Jonathan Swift
No man was ever so completely skilled in the conduct of life, as not to receive new information from age and experience.
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Come, agree, the law's costly.
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My horses understand me tolerably well I converse with them at least four hours every day. They are strangers to bridle or saddle they live in great amity with me, and friendship of each other.
Jonathan Swift