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Good wine needs neither bush nor preface to make it welcome. And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd.

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
Bush
Welcome
Red
Wine
Neither
Barr
Needs
Preface
Make
Helmet
Good
Drank

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Spangling the wave with lights as vain As pleasures in the vale of pain, That dazzle as they fade.
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Contentions fierce, Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause.
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War is the only game in which both sides lose.
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Those who are too idle to read, save for the purpose of amusement, may in these works acquire some acquaintance with history, which, however inaccurate, is better than none.
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Well, then--our course is chosen--spread the sail-- Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well-- Look to the helm, good master--many a shoal Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.
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A ruin should always be protected but never repaired - thus may we witness full the lingering legacies of the past.
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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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Give me an honest laugher.
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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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...crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.
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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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He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.
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A few drops sprinkled on the torch of love make the flame blaze the brighter.
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Chivalry!---why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection---the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant ---Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword.
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When thinking about companions gone, we feel ourselves doubly alone.
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Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.
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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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Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell.
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And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears.
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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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