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Thou hast had thty day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old warhorse turned out on the barren heath thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them.
Walter Scott
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Walter Scott
Age: 61 †
Born: 1771
Born: August 15
Died: 1832
Died: September 21
Baronet Scott
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Walter Skott
Jedediah Cleishbotham
Laurence Templeton
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Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
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More quotes by Walter Scott
Spur not an unbroken horse put not your plowshare too deep into new land.
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It is wonderful what strength of purpose and boldness and energy of will are roused by the assurance that we are doing our duty.
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Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.
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O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!
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Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven.
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Some touch of Nature's genial glow.
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It is a great disgrace to religion, to imagine that it is an enemy to mirth and cheerfulness, and a severe exacter of pensive looks and solemn faces.
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He is the best sailor who can steer within fewest points of the wind, and exact a motive power out of the greatest obstacles.
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Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains, Winning from Reason's hand the reins, Pity and woe! for such a mind Is soft contemplative, and kind.
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Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.
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He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.
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Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
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Come one, come all! this rock shall fly From its firm base, as soon as I.
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True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly It liveth not in fierce desire.
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For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
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Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain! Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood. Thou many-headed monster thing, Oh who would wish to be thy king!
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The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have know a better day.
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Respect was mingled with surprise, And the stern joy which warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel.
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No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.
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The sun never sets on the immense empire of Charles V.
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