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The willow which bends to the tempest often escapes better than the oak which resists it.
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
Bends
Escapes
Tempest
Oaks
Frivolous
Adversity
Elasticity
Often
Willow
Better
Resists
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Every hour has its end.
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It is only when I dally with what I am about, look back and aside, instead of keeping my eyes straight forward, that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart.
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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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A sinful heart makes feeble hand.
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Vengeance to God alone belongs But, when I think of all my wrongs My blood is liquid flame!
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To the timid and hesitating everything is impossible because it seems so.
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What I have to say is far more important than how long my eyelashes are.
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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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Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.
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Thou hast had thty day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old warhorse turned out on the barren heath thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them.
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I envy thee not thy faith, which is ever in thy mouth but never in thy heart nor in thy practice
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Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
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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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Covetousness bursts the sack and spills the grain.
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What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?
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England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.
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Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
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