Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

It's very hard! Oh, Dick, my boy, It's very hard one can't enjoy A little private spouting, But sure as Lear or Hamlet lives, Up comes our master, Bounce! and gives The tragic Muse a routing.

It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives.

The Autumn is old; The sere leaves are flying; He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying;-- Old age, begin sighing!

The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;-- Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

Dear bells! how sweet the sound of village bells When on the undulating air they swim!

While the steeples are loud in their joy, To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding, Let us chime in a peal, one and all, For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.

Such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.

Sweet are the little brooks that run O'er pebbles glancing in the sun, Singing in soothing tones.

Whoe'er has gone thro' London street, Has seen a butcher gazing at his meat, And how he keeps Gloating upon a sheep's Or bullock's personals, as if his own; How he admires his halves And quarters--and his calves, As if in truth upon his own legs grown.

The cowslip is a country wench.

It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives.

And daisy-stars, whose firmament is green.

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand Some random bud will meet; Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find The daisy at thy feet.

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions; Yet others of our most romantic schemes Are something more than fictions.

"Good, well-dress'd turtle beats them hollow,-- It almost makes me wish, I vow, To have two stomachs, like a cow!" And lo! as with the cud, an inward thrill Upheaved his waistcoat and disturb'd his frill, His mouth was oozing, and he work'd his jaw-- "I almost that that I could eat one raw."

Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!

Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.

But she is vanish'd to her shady home Under the deep, inscrutable; and there Weeps in a midnight made of her own hair.