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Whose lenient sorrows find relief, whose joys are chastened by their grief.
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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Walter Skott
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Laurence Templeton
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Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
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More quotes by Walter Scott
Give me an honest laugher.
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Good wine needs neither bush nor preface to make it welcome. And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd.
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And children know, Instinctive taught, the friend and foe.
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Mellow nuts have the hardest rind.
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No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.
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Where is the coward that would not dare to fight for such a land as Scotland?
Walter Scott
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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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!
Walter Scott
Here eglantine embalm'd the air, Hawthorne and hazel mingled there The primrose pale, and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower Fox-glove and nightshade, side by side, Emblems of punishment and pride, Group'd their dark hues with every stain The weather-beaten crags retain.
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One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name
Walter Scott
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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Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
Walter Scott
November's sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear.
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Time rolls his ceaseless course.
Walter Scott
Do not Christians and Heathens, and Jews and Gentiles, and poets and philosophers, unite in allowing the starry influences?
Walter Scott
Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!
Walter Scott
Steady of heart and stout of hand.
Walter Scott
Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll, And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole, Yet 'tis Thy voice, my God, that bids them fly, Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky. Then let the good Thy mighty name revere, And hardened sinners Thy just vengeance fear.
Walter Scott
Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.
Walter Scott
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.
Walter Scott
