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What though I cannot meet my bills? What though I suffer toothache's ills? What though I swallow countless pills?
W. S. Gilbert
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W. S. Gilbert
Age: 74 †
Born: 1836
Born: November 18
Died: 1911
Died: May 29
Dramatist
Illustrator
Librettist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Theatrical Director
Writer
London
England
Sir William Schwenck Gilbert
William Schwenck Gilbert
William S. Gilbert
William Schwenk Gilbert
Bab
Bab Gilbert
William Gilbert
Suffering
Ills
Cannot
Swallow
Countless
Pills
Suffer
Bills
Meet
Though
Toothache
More quotes by W. S. Gilbert
In short, whoever you may be, To this conclusion you'll agree, When every one is somebodee, Then no one's anybody!
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Who knows but we may count among our intellectual chickens Like them an Earl of Thackeray and p'raps a Duke of Dickens
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All bayonets are bad.
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No one can have a higher opinion of him than I have and I think he's a dirty little beast.
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Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses, Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.
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As is gloriously sung in the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta H.M.S. Pinafore, in the words of W. S. Gilbert: Things are seldom as they seem, Skim milk masquerades as cream.
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It's love that makes the world go round.
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Oh, don't the days seem lank and long When all goes right and nothing goes wrong, And isn't your life extremely flat With nothing whatever to grumble at!
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I know everybody's income and what everybody earns, And I carefully compare it with the income-tax returns
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I am, in point of fact, a particularly haughty and exclusive person, of pre-Adamite ancestral descent. You will understand this when I tell you that I can trace my ancestry back to a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule.
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A man is but an ass Who fights in a cuirass
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I am the Captain of the Pinafore And a right good captain too! . . . . And I'm never, never sick at sea! What, never? No, never! What never? Hardly ever! He's hardly ever sick at sea! Then give three cheers, and one cheer more, For the hardy Captain of the Pinafore!
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It isn't so much what's on the table that matters, as what's on the chairs.
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The privilege and pleasure That we treasure beyond measure Is to run on little errands for the Ministers of State.
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He did nothing in particular, and did it very well.
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Strike the concertina's melancholy string! Blow the spirit-stirring harp like any thing! Let the piano's martial blast Rouse the Echoes of the Past
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When Wellington thrashed Bonaparte, As every child can tell, The House of Peers, throughout the war, Did nothing in particular, And did it very well
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Roll on, thou ball, roll on! Through pathless realms of Space, Roll on!
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Life's perhaps the only riddle That we shrink from giving up.
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Life is a joke that's just begun.
W. S. Gilbert
