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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!
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
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Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
Great Magician
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War
Fairs
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Shiver
Still
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Spears
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Shield
Fields
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Broken
Scotland
Sire
Shall
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Strife
Carnage
More quotes by Walter Scott
come he slow or come he fast it is but death that comes at last
Walter Scott
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
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In man's most dark extremity Oft succour dawns from Heaven.
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The Book of Books Within this ample volume lies The mystery of mysteries. Happiest they of human race To whom their God has given grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, to force the way But better had they ne'er been born That read to doubt or read to scorn.
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Although too much of a soldier among sovereigns, no one could claim with better right to be a sovereign among soldiers.
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Affection can withstand very severe storms of vigor, but not a long polar frost of indifference.
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It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the humour of each displays itself, without ceremony or restraint.
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Faces that have charmed us the most escape us the soonest.
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Stood for his country's glory fast, And nailed her colors to the mast!
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Adversity is like the period of the rain. . . cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate.
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The playbill, which is said to have announced the tragedy of Hamlet, the character of the Prince of Denmark being left out.
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Oh, poverty parts good company.
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England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.
Walter Scott
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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Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
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The sickening pang of hope deferr'd.
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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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Covetousness bursts the sack and spills the grain.
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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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In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying.
Walter Scott