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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.
Walter Scott
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Walter Scott
Age: 61 †
Born: 1771
Born: August 15
Died: 1832
Died: September 21
Baronet Scott
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Walter Skott
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Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
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River
Spake
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Charger
More quotes by Walter Scott
Call it not vain: they do not err Who say that when the poet dies Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies.
Walter Scott
What is a diary as a rule? A document useful to the person who keeps it. Dull to the contemporary who reads it and invaluable to the student, centuries afterwards, who treasures it.
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I am she, O most bucolical juvenal, under whose charge are placed the milky mothers of the herd.
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So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like young Lochinvar.
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Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion.
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For success, attitude is equally as important as ability.
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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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If a farmer fills his barn with grain, he gets mice. If he leaves it empty, he gets actors.
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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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The sun never sets on the immense empire of Charles V.
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Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.
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Merrily, merrily goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sea.
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When Israel, of the Lord belov'd, Out of the land of bondage came, Her fathers' God before her mov'd, An awful guide in smoke and flame.
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Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain! Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood. Thou many-headed monster thing, Oh who would wish to be thy king!
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Sleep in peace, and wake in joy.
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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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If you once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, it is all over. Bolt up at once.
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Mellow nuts have the hardest rind.
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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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The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have know a better day.
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