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Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Dream of battled fields no more. Days of danger, nights of waking.

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
Fields
Danger
Battled
Rest
Memorial
Days
Nights
Sleep
Warfare
Night
Breaking
Dream
Waking
Soldier

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Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll, And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole, Yet 'tis Thy voice, my God, that bids them fly, Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky. Then let the good Thy mighty name revere, And hardened sinners Thy just vengeance fear.
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One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name
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A rusted nail, placed near the faithful compass, Will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy.
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Teach self-denial and make its practice pleasure, and you can create for the world a destiny more sublime that ever issued from the brain of the wildest dreamer.
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Blessed be his name, who hath appointed the quiet night to follow the busy day, and the calm sleep to refresh the wearied limbs and to compose the troubled spirit.
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Sensibility is nature's celestial spring.
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The pith of conversation does not consist in exhibiting your own superior knowledge on matters of small consequence, but in enlarging, improving and correcting the information you possess by the authority of others.
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All men who have turned out worth anything have had the chief hand in their own education.
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We are like the herb which flourisheth most when it is most trampled on.
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'Tis an old tale, and often told But did my fate and wish agree, Ne'er had been read, in story old, Of maiden true betray'd for gold, That loved, or was avenged, like me!
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The heart-sick faintness of the hope delayed!
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Look at a gown of gold, and you will at least get a sleeve of it.
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Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
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Stood for his country's glory fast, And nailed her colors to the mast!
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A glass of good wine is a gracious creature, and reconciles poor mortality to itself and that is what few things can do.
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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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All is possible for those who dare to die!
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Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!
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One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled with noble risks, is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum, in which men steal through existence, like sluggish waters through a marsh, without either honor or observation.
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Oh, poverty parts good company.
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