Quote

True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven. It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.

Walter Scott

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Walter Scott
Age: 61 †
Born: 1771
Born: August 15
Died: 1832
Died: September 21
Baronet Scott
Biographer
Historian
Judge
Lawyer
Linguist
Literary Critic
Musicologist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
Translator
Edinburgh
Scotland
Walter Skott
Jedediah Cleishbotham
Laurence Templeton
Somnambulus
Malachi Malagrowther
Sir Walter Scott
Bart.
Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
Great Magician
The Great Unknown
Body
Ties
Soul
Silver
Heart
Gift
Silken
Mind
Alone
Bind
Men
Secret
Link
Love
Heaven
Links
Life
Given
Beneath
True
Sympathy

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A sound head, an honest heart, and an humble spirit are the three best guides through time and to eternity.
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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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It 's no fish ye 're buying, it 's men's lives.
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Here is neither want of appetite nor mouths, Pray heaven we be not scant of meat or mirth.
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One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name
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For he that does good, having the unlimited power to do evil, deserves praise not only for the good which he performs, but for the evil which he forbears.
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Literature is a great staff, but a very sorry crutch.
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Credit is like a looking-glass, which when once sullied by a breath, may be wiped clear again but if once cracked can never be repaired.
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A good deal of philanthropy arises in general from mere vanity and love of distinction gilded over to others and to themselves with some show of benevolent sentiment.
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Fortune may raise up or abuse the ordinary mortal, but the sage and the soldier should have minds beyond her control.
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The sickening pang of hope deferr'd.
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A few drops sprinkled on the torch of love make the flame blaze the brighter.
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On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage, Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth: Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare.
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I will but confess the sins of my green cloak to my grey friar's frock, and all shall be well again.
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Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonor'd, and unsung.
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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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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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Ridicule often checks what is absurd, and fully as often smothers that which is noble.
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He turn'd his charger as he spake, Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle reins a shake, Said, Adieu for evermore, my love, And adieu for evermore.
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