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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.

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
Land
Breathes
Soul
Patriot
Never
Patriotic
Men
Patriotism
Hath
Native
Minstrels
Breathe
Renown
Dead
Forfeit

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When thinking about companions gone, we feel ourselves doubly alone.
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In that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleasant town of Doncaster.
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But with morning cool repentance came.
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Treason seldom dwells with courage.
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I was born a Scotsman and a bare one. Therefore I was born to fight my way in the world.
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Tears are the softening showers which cause the seed of heaven to spring up in the human heart.
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Many miles away there's a shadow on the door of a cottage on the Shore of a dark Scottish lake.
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War is the only game in which both sides lose.
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The man who is deserving the name is the one whose thoughts and exertions are for others rather than for himself.
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I have sometimes thought of the final cause of dogs having such short lives and I am quite satisfied it is in compassion to the human race for if we suffer so much in losing a dog after an acquaintance of ten or twelve years, what would it be if they were to live double that time?
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Who, noteless as the race from which he sprung, Saved others' names, but left his own unsung.
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Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!
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Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men Come open the West Port, and let me gang free, And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!
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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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What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?
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There is a southern proverb - fine words butter no parsnips.
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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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Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!
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In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying.
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