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Covetousness bursts the sack and spills the grain.
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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Edinburgh
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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
Spills
Grain
Sack
Bursts
Covetousness
More quotes by Walter Scott
O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!
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Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion.
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Time rolls his ceaseless course.
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Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
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Guilt, though it may attain temporal splendor, can never confer real happiness the evil consequences of our crimes long survive their commission, and, like the ghosts of the murdered, forever haunt the steps of the malefactor while the paths of virtue, though seldom those of worldly greatness, are always those of pleasantness and peace.
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Look at a gown of gold, and you will at least get a sleeve of it.
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True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly It liveth not in fierce desire.
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When true friends meet in adverse hour 'Tis like a sunbeam through a shower. A watery way an instant seen, The darkly closing clouds between.
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One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name
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He that climbs a ladder must begin at the first round.
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The race of mankind would perish did they cease to aid each other. We cannot exist without mutual help. All therefore that need aid have a right to ask it from their fellow-men and no one who has the power of granting can refuse it without guilt.
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And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears.
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Hard toil can roughen form and face, And want call quench the eye's bright grace.
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Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
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Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
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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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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.
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To be ambitious of true honor, of the true glory and perfection of our natures, is the very principle and incentive of virtue.
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Heaven know its time the bullet has its billet
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Blud's thicker than water.
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