Walter Scott Quotes

In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying.

What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?

He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.

Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth.

True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly; It liveth not in fierce desire.

Look back, and smile on perils past!

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, and men below, and the saints above, for love is heaven, and heaven is love.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave...when first we practice to deceive.

And please return it. You may think this a strange request, but I find that although my friends are poor arithmeticians, they are nearly all of them good bookkeepers.

Colonel Talbot? he is a very disagreeable person, to be sure. He looks as if he thought no Scottish woman worth the trouble of handing her a cup of tea.

so wondrous wild, the whole might seemthe scenery of a fairy dream

One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled with noble risks, is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum

Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant of the weak and the wrong. Sometime in life you will have been all of these.

The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go downTo the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

In the wide pile, by others heeded not, Hers was one sacred solitary spot, Whose gloomy aisles and bending shelves containFor moral hunger food, and cures for moral pain.

We are like the herb which flourisheth most when trampled upon

Revenge is a feast for thegods!

A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poor man's heart through half the year.

No word of commiseration can make a burden feel one feather's weight lighter to the slave who must carry it.

Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.

Oh, many a shaft at random sentFinds mark the archer little meant!And many a word at random spokenMay soothe, or wound, a heart that's broken!

But search the land of living men Where wilt thou find their like again.

Adversity is to me at least a tonic and a bracer.

Cutting honest throats by whispers.

It is only when I dally with what I am about look back and aside instead of keeping my eyes straight forward that I feel these cold sinkings of the heart.

Is death the last sleep? No it is the last final awakening.

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

I like a highland friend who will stand by me not only when I am in the right but when I am a little in the wrong.

One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.

One hour of life crowded to the full with glorious action and filled with noble risks is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum.

To all to each a fair good night And pleasing dreams and slumbers light.

One hour of life crowded to the full with glorious action and filled with noble risks is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said This is my own my native land!

I cannot tell how the truth may be I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

To all to each a fair goodnight And pleasing dreams and slumbers light.

Her blue eyes sought the west afar For lovers love the western star.

True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire Whose wishes soon as granted fly It liveth not in fierce desire.

O Woman! in our hours of ease Uncertain coy and hard to please And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made When pain and anguish wring the brow A ministering angel thou!

Adversity is like the period of the rain ... cold comfortless unfriendly to man and to animal yet from that season have their birth the flower the fruit the date the rose and the pomegranate.

A rusty nail placed near a faithful compass, will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy.