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All is but lip-wisdom which wants experience.

Philip Sidney

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Philip Sidney
Age: 31 †
Born: 1554
Born: November 30
Died: 1586
Died: October 17
Diplomat
Military Personnel
Novelist
Poet
Politician
Kent
England
Sir Philip Sidney
Lips
Wants
Wisdom
Experience

More quotes by Philip Sidney

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To the disgrace of men it is seen that there are women both more wise to judge what evil is expected, and more constant to bear it when it happens.
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Indeed, the Roman laws allowed no person to be carried to the wars but he that was in the soldiers roll.
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A noble heart, like the sun, showeth its greatest countenance in its lowest estate.
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The truly great man is as apt to forgive as his power is able to revenge.
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He travels safe and not unpleasantly who is guarded by poverty and guided by love.
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Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge.
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My true love hath my heart, and I have his
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It is no less vain to wish death than it is cowardly to fear it.
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They love indeed who quake to say they love.
Philip Sidney
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Since bodily strength is but a servant to the mind, it were very barbarous and preposterous that force should be made judge over reason.
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High honor is not only gotten and born by pain and danger, but must be nursed by the like, else it vanisheth as soon as it appears to the world.
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The end of all knowledge should be in virtuous action.
Philip Sidney
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As the fertilest ground, must be manured, so must the highest flying wit have a Daedalus to guide him.
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Scoffing cometh not of wisdom.
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Love, one time, layeth burdens another time, giveth wings.
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Like the air-invested heron, great persons should conduct themselves and the higher they be, the less they should show.
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What doth better become wisdom than to discern what is worthy the living.
Philip Sidney
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Happiness is a sunbeam, which may pass though a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray.
Philip Sidney
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But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay Invention, Nature's child, fled stepdame Study's blows And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way. Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart, and write.
Philip Sidney
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Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?
Philip Sidney