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There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.

Thomas Hood

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Thomas Hood
Age: 45 †
Born: 1799
Born: May 23
Died: 1845
Died: May 3
Humorist
Poet
Writer
London
England
T. H.
Attuned
Chord
Mirth
String
Chords
Melancholy
Strings

More quotes by Thomas Hood

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We watch'd her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro.
Thomas Hood
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Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
Thomas Hood
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With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread.
Thomas Hood
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Spontaneously to God should turn the soul, Like the magnetic needle to the pole But what were that intrinsic virtue worth, Suppose some fellow, with more zeal than knowledge, Fresh from St. Andrew's College, Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
Thomas Hood
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Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.
Thomas Hood
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Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.
Thomas Hood
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She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
Thomas Hood
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What joy have I in June's return? My feet are parched-my eyeballs burn, I scent no flowery gust But faint the flagging zephyr springs, With dry Macadam on its wings, And turns me 'dust to dust.'
Thomas Hood
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Whoe'er has gone thro' London street, Has seen a butcher gazing at his meat, And how he keeps Gloating upon a sheep's Or bullock's personals, as if his own How he admires his halves And quarters--and his calves, As if in truth upon his own legs grown.
Thomas Hood
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Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Thomas Hood
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The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade--now bright and sunny-- But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon--so called--of honey!
Thomas Hood
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Apothegms form a short cut to much knowledge.
Thomas Hood
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Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
Thomas Hood
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Well, something must be done for May, The time is drawing nigh-- To figure in the Catalogue, And woo the public eye. Something I must invent and paint But oh my wit is not Like one of those kind substantives That answer Who and What?
Thomas Hood
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There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
Thomas Hood
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While the steeples are loud in their joy, To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding, Let us chime in a peal, one and all, For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.
Thomas Hood
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Experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow.
Thomas Hood
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My books kept me from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon.
Thomas Hood
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To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.
Thomas Hood
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No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.
Thomas Hood