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But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men.

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
Sees
Tears
Country
Men
Bearded
Awaits
Woe

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Where lives the man that has not tried How mirth can into folly glide, And folly into sin!
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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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There is a southern proverb - fine words butter no parsnips.
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Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.
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Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
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Vacant heart, and hand, and eye, Easy live and quiet die.
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As hope and fear alternate chase Our course through life's uncertain race.
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Blud's thicker than water.
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And better had they ne'er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.
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My dear, be a good man be virtuous be religious be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here. ...God bless you all.
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A good deal of philanthropy arises in general from mere vanity and love of distinction gilded over to others and to themselves with some show of benevolent sentiment.
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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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Vengeance to God alone belongs But, when I think of all my wrongs My blood is liquid 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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I cannot tell how the truth may be I say the tale as it was said to me.
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Oh, on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes front clay, Be Thou, O Christ, the sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away.
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Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, morn of toil, nor night of waking.
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Cats are a mysterious kind of folk.
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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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I did not myself set a high estimation on wealth, and had the affectation of most young men of lively imagination, who suppose that they can better dispense with the possession of money, than resign their time and faculties to the labour necessary to acquire it.
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