C. L. Gray Quotes

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,/ The bee's collected treasure sweet,/ Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet/ The still small voice of gratitude.

When love could teach a monarch to be wise, And gospel-light first dawn'd from Bullen's eyes.

Man's feeble race what ills await! Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!

Along the cool sequestered vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.

Sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind.

We frolic while 'tis May.

England, so long mistress of the sea, Where winds and waves confess her sovereignty, Her ancient triumphs yet on high shall bear And reign the sovereign of the conquered air.

Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.

Low on his funeral couch he lies!

And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.

Now as the Paradisiacal pleasures of the Mahometans consist in playing upon the flute and lying with Houris, be mine to read eternal new romances of Marivaux and Crebillon.

O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of love.

And hie him home, at evening's close, To sweet repast and calm repose.

Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.

Ah, tell them they are men!

If you can't find anybody else, then I'll go. So, they couldn't find anybody else. So, I went.

I believe there ought to be school choice, so that parents can choose within the public school system.

This ocean circulation, a northbound current that sinks and then moves southbound, tends to go through multi-decadal changes.

A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her.

There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

It is perfectly monstrous, ' he said, at last, 'the way people go about nowadays saying things against one behind one's back that are absolutely and entirely true.

You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know.

Women have no appreciation of good looks-at least, good women have not.

Well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth. To test reality we must see it on the tight rope. When the verities become acrobats, we can judge them.

Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.

It would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free.

Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired, women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

Punctuality is the thief of time.

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.

What are American dry-goods? asked the duchess, raising her large hands in wonder and accentuating the verb.American novels, answered Lord Henry.

There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating- people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing.

He wants to enslave you.''I shudder at the thought of being free.

I wish you would tell me your secret. To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.

As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her daughter, she is perfectly satisfied

She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious.

Beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins

Inteligence lives longer than beauty.

Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. World's had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might blow...

...art had no moral responsibility. Art, he argued, should strive only to be a beautiful object entirely separate from its creator.

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.All art is quite useless.

It often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than it ever reveals him.

That is one of the great secrets of life Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.

Life has always poppies in her hands.

Of course married life is merely a habit, a bad habit. But then one regrets the loss even of one's worse habits.

From the moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. I was dominated, soul brain and power.

Nay, without thought or conscious desire, might not things external to ourselves vibrate in unison with our moods and passions, atom calling to atom in secret love or strange affinity?

It is simply expression, as Henry says, that gives reality to things.

I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows.