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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
Meet
Though
Toothache
Suffering
Ills
Cannot
Swallow
Countless
Pills
Suffer
Bills
More quotes by W. S. Gilbert
If you give me your attention, I will tell you what I am: I'm a genuine philanthropist--all other kinds are sham. Each little fault of temper and each social defect In my erring fellow creatures, I endeavor to correct.
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Bind up their wounds - but look the other way.
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I always voted at my party's call, and I never thought of thinking for myself at all.
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So I fell in love with a rich attorney's Elderly ugly daughter.
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Let the punishment fit the crime.
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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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It's true I've got no shirts to wear It's true my butcher's bill is due It's true my prospects all look blue - But don't let that unsettle you.
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If I can wheedle A knife or a needle, Why not a Silver Churn?
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Life's a pudding full of plums.
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Oh, wouldn't the world seem dull and flat with nothing whatever to grumble at?
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Posterity will know as little of me as I know of posterity.
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Isn't your life extremely flat,With nothing to grumble at?
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I am a child of Nature, and take after my mother.
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No good play is a success fine writing and high morals are useless on the stage. I have been scribbling twaddle for thirty-five years to suit the public taste, and I should know.
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Then a sentimental passion of a vegetable fashion must excite your languid spleen, An attachment a la Plato for a bashful young potato, or a not-too-French French bean!
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My family pride is something inconceivable. I can't help it. I was born sneering.
W. S. Gilbert
There's a fascination frantic in a ruin that's romantic.
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Roll on, thou ball, roll on! Through pathless realms of Space, Roll on!
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I shall carry to the Catacombs of Age, Photographically lined On the tablet of my mind
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When you are lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is tabooed by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in without impropriety.
W. S. Gilbert
