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I am she, O most bucolical juvenal, under whose charge are placed the milky mothers of the herd.

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
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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
Motherhood
Mothers
Charge
Whose
Mother
Milky
Herd
Herds
Placed

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I'll dream no more--by mainly mind Not even in sleep is well resigned. My midnight orisons said o'er, I'll turn to rest and dream no more.
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Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.
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It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the humour of each displays itself, without ceremony or restraint.
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Come forth, old man,--thy daughter's side Is now the fitting place for thee: When time has quell'd the oak's bold pride, The youthful tendril yet may hide, The ruins of the parent tree.
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The schoolmaster is termed, classically, Ludi Magister, because he deprives boys of their play.
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Recollect that the Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble and incapable of deceit.
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Land of my sires! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand!
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Every hour has its end.
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Jock, when ye hae naething else to do, ye may be aye sticking in a tree it will be growing, Jock, when ye 're sleeping.
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Charge, Chester, charge! on, Stanley, on! Were the last words of Marmion.
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Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife, and carnage drear, Of Flodden's fatal field, When shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear, And broken was her shield!
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Steady of heart and stout of hand.
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Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.
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And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.
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Sleep in peace, and wake in joy.
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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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Real valor consists not in being insensible to danger but in being prompt to confront and disarm it.
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Lambe them, lads! lambe them! a cant phrase of the time derived from the fate of Dr. Lambe, an astrologer and quack, who was knocked on the head by the rabble in Charles the First's time.
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He that follows the advice of reason has a mind that is elevated above the reach of injury that sits above the clouds, in a calm and quiet ether, and with a brave indifferency hears the rolling thunders grumble and burst under his feet.
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Many a law, many a commandment have I broken, but my word never.
Walter Scott