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Good Lord, what is man! for as simple he looks, Do but try to develop his books and his crooks, With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil, All in all, he's a problem must puzzle the devil.

Robert Burns

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Robert Burns
Age: 37 †
Born: 1759
Born: January 25
Died: 1796
Died: July 21
Farmer
Musicologist
Poet
Songwriter
Writer
Robbie Burns
Rabbie Burns
Scotland's favourite son
Ploughman Poet
Robden of Solway Firth
Bard of Ayrshire
The Bard
Robert Burns
Simple
Puzzles
Men
Evil
Depths
Problem
Simplicity
Book
Depth
Looks
Develop
Must
Devil
Shallows
Books
Crooks
Trying
Lord
Puzzle
Good

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Beauty's of a fading nature. Has a season and is gone!
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Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.--Robert Burns
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Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire, That's a' the learning I desire.
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Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
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The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
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Now's the day and now's the hour.
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O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
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Suspense is worst than disappointment.
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The best plans of men and mice often go awry.
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I'm truly sorry man's dominion has broken Nature's social union.
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Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
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My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.
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Dare to be honest and fear no labor.
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For thus the royal mandate ran, When first the human race began, The social, friendly honest man, Whate'er he be, Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan, And none but he!
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I have a hundred times wished that one could resign life as an officer resigns a commission.
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God help the teacher, if a man of sensibility and genius, when a booby father presents him with his booby son, and insists on lighting up the rays of science in a fellow's head whose skull is impervious and inaccessible by any other way than a positive fracture with a cudgel.
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What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Robert Burns
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Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise.
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A women can make an average man great, and a great man average.
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My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
Robert Burns