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Thus aged men, full loth and slow, The vanities of life forego, And count their youthful follies o'er, Till Memory lends her light no more.

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
Life
Slow
Vanities
Till
Follies
Thus
Lends
Memory
Youthful
Memories
Aged
Full
Folly
Light
Count
Men
Vanity
Forego

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If a faultless poem could be produced, I am satisfied it would tire the critics themselves and annoy the whole reading world with the spleen.
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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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In love quarrels the party that loves the most is always most willing to acknowledge the greater fault.
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If you keep a thing seven years, you are sure to find a use for it.
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The most learned, acute, and diligent student cannot, in the longest life, obtain an entire knowledge of this one volume.
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The Book of Books Within this ample volume lies The mystery of mysteries. Happiest they of human race To whom their God has given grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, to force the way But better had they ne'er been born That read to doubt or read to scorn.
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Never was flattery lost on a poet's ear a simple race, they waste their toil for the vain tribute of a smile.
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Time rolls his ceaseless course.
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Methinks I will not die quite happy without having seen something of that Rome of which I have read so much.
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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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I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away!
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But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like again?
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The playbill, which is said to have announced the tragedy of Hamlet, the character of the Prince of Denmark being left out.
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He that would soothe sorrow must not argue on the vanity of the most deceitful hopes.
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November's sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear.
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Although too much of a soldier among sovereigns, no one could claim with better right to be a sovereign among soldiers.
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O woman! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
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O! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word, at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!
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The happy combination of fortuitous circumstances.
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Tell that to the marines - the sailors won't believe it.
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