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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
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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
Folly
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Vanity
Vanities
Life
Slow
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Memories
More quotes by Walter Scott
As good play for nothing, you know, as work for nothing.
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He is the best sailor who can steer within fewest points of the wind, and exact a motive power out of the greatest obstacles.
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Mankind — the race would perish did they cease to aid each other.
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Charge, Chester, charge! on, Stanley, on! Were the last words of Marmion.
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Welcome as the flowers in May.
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Love, to her ear, was but a name, Combin'd with vanity and shame Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all Bounded within the cloister wall.
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Sleep in peace, and wake in joy.
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Success - keeping your mind awake and your desire asleep.
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The schoolmaster is termed, classically, Ludi Magister, because he deprives boys of their play.
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He turn'd his charger as he spake, Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle reins a shake, Said, Adieu for evermore, my love, And adieu for evermore.
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From my experience, not one in twenty marries the first love we build statues of snow and weep to see them melt.
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One or two of these scoundrel statesmen should be shot once a-year, just to keep the others on their good behavior.
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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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I have heard men talk about the blessings of freedom, he said to himself, but I wish any wise man would teach me what use to make of it now that I have it.
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A few drops sprinkled on the torch of love make the flame blaze the brighter.
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In man's most dark extremity Oft succour dawns from Heaven.
Walter Scott
Each must drain His share of pleasure, share of pain.
Walter Scott
Where lives the man that has not tried How mirth can into folly glide, And folly into sin!
Walter Scott
Sordid selfishness doth contract and narrow our benevolence, and cause us, like serpents, to infold ourselves within ourselves, and to turn out our stings to the entire world besides.
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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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