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He that would soothe sorrow must not argue on the vanity of the most deceitful hopes.
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
Jedediah Cleishbotham
Laurence Templeton
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Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
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More quotes by Walter Scott
Silence, maiden thy tongue outruns thy discretion.
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Spur not an unbroken horse put not your plowshare too deep into new land.
Walter Scott
Recollect that the Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble and incapable of deceit.
Walter Scott
It is more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.
Walter Scott
Many a law, many a commandment have I broken, but my word never.
Walter Scott
The pith of conversation does not consist in exhibiting your own superior knowledge on matters of small consequence, but in enlarging, improving and correcting the information you possess by the authority of others.
Walter Scott
Whose lenient sorrows find relief, whose joys are chastened by their grief.
Walter Scott
Ridicule often checks what is absurd, and fully as often smothers that which is noble.
Walter Scott
We often praise the evening clouds, And tints so gay and bold, But seldom think upon our God, Who tinged these clouds with gold.
Walter Scott
Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.
Walter Scott
Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
Walter Scott
The man who is deserving the name is the one whose thoughts and exertions are for others rather than for himself.
Walter Scott
Covetousness bursts the sack and spills the grain.
Walter Scott
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
A fool's wild speech confounds the wise.
Walter Scott
But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men.
Walter Scott
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.
Walter Scott
My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, My gentle guide, in following thee.
Walter Scott
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
Fair play is a jewel.
Walter Scott
