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So I sit there kicked my heels, thinking about New Orleans, and watching a morbid blue-bottle fly attempt to commit suicide by butting his head against the windowpane.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Age: 70 †
Born: 1836
Born: November 2
Died: 1907
Died: March 19
Editor
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Portsmouth
New Hampshire
Head
Bottle
Thinking
Bottles
Heels
Attempt
Butting
Suicide
Windowpane
Commit
Morbid
Watching
Kicked
Blue
Orleans
More quotes by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Between the reputation of the author living and the reputation of the same author dead there is ever a wide discrepancy.
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They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.
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What is a day to an immortal soul! A breath, no more.
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When friends are at your hearthside met, Sweet courtesy has done its most If you have made each guest forget That he himself is not the host.
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Shakespeare is forever coming into our affairs -- putting in his oar, so to speak -- with some pat word or sentence.
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My father invested his money so securely in the banking business that he was never able to get any of it out again.
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The ocean moans over dead men's bones.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Gracious to all, to none subservient, Without offense he spoke the word he meant
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
What is slang in one age sometimes goes into the vocabulary of the purist in the next.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Everyone has a bookplate these days, and the collectors are after it. The fool and his bookplate are soon parted. To distribute one's ex libris is inanely to destroy the only significance it has, that of indicating the past or present ownership of the volume in which it is placed.
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A glance, a word -- and joy or pain befalls.... How slight the links are in the chain that binds us to our destiny!
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The fate of the worm refutes the pretended ethical teaching of the proverb, which assumes to illustrate the advantage of early rising and does so by showing how extremely dangerous it is.
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Books that have become classics - books that have had their day and now get more praise than perusal - always remind me of retired colonels and majors and captains who, having reached the age limit, find themselves retired on half pay.
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Dialect tempered with slang is an admirable medium of communication between persons who have nothing to say and persons who would not care for anything properly said.
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Great orators who are not also great writers become very indistinct shadows to the generations following them. The spell vanishes with the voice.
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October turned my maple's leaves to gold The most are gone now here and there one lingers: Soon these will slip from the twigs' weak hold, Like coins between a dying miser's fingers.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Black Tragedy lets slip her grim disguise and shows you laughing lips and roguish eyes but when, unmasked, gay Comedy appears, how wan her cheeks are, and what heavy tears!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Up from the dark the moon begins to creep and now a pallid, haggard face lifts she above the water-line: thus from the deep a drowned body rises solemnly.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich