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The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition of constant close contact.

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
Friendship
However
Attrition
Close
Chain
Stand
Chains
Doe
Bright
Contact
Constant

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We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
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Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion.
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He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit.
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We do that in our zeal our calmer moment would be afraid to answer.
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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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Look back, and smile on perils past.
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In love quarrels the party that loves the most is always most willing to acknowledge the greater fault.
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Success - keeping your mind awake and your desire asleep.
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For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
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Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
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Fight on, brave knights! Man dies, but glory lives! Fight on death is better than defeat! Fight on brave knights! for bright eyes behold your deeds!
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The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears.
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You will, I trust, resemble a forest plant, which has indeed, by some accident, been brought up in the greenhouse, and thus rendered delicate and effeminate, but which regains its native firmness and tenacity, when exposed for a season to the winter air.
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Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Dream of battled fields no more. Days of danger, nights of waking.
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Come one, come all! this rock shall fly From its firm base, as soon as I.
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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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Faces that have charmed us the most escape us the soonest.
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Where shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever From his true maiden's breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow.
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It was woman that taught me cruelty, and on woman therefore I have exercised it.
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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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