Quote

Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee. I prithee, dear moon, now show to me the form and the features, the speech and degree, of the man that true lover of mine shall be.

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
Show
Lovers
Shows
Degrees
True
Dear
Lover
Mines
Features
Form
Mine
Fairs
Even
Moon
Degree
Good
Speech
Fair
Men
Shall
Thee

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In listening mood she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand.
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In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed In war, he mounts the warrior's steed In halls, in gay attire is seen In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
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Success - keeping your mind awake and your desire asleep.
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Contentions fierce, Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause.
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...crystal and hearts would lose all their merit in the world if it were not for their fragility.
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For love is heaven and heaven is love.
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Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
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A rusted nail, placed near the faithful compass, Will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy.
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Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
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And children know, Instinctive taught, the friend and foe.
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Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife, and carnage drear, Of Flodden's fatal field, When shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear, And broken was her shield!
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The misery of keeping a dog is his dying so soon. But, to be sure, if he lived for fifty years and then died, what would become of me?
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Her blue eyes sought the west afar, For lovers love the western star.
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Lightly from fair to fair he flew, And loved to plead, lament, and sue Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
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The tear, down childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dewdrop on the rose When next the summer breeze comes by And waves the bush, the flower is dry.
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Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
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In prosperous times I have sometimes felt my fancy and powers of language flag, but adversity is to me at least a tonic and bracer.
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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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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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Sensibility is nature's celestial spring.
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