Walter Scott Quotes
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Each age has deemed the new-born year the fittest time for festal cheer.
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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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The stag at eve had drunk his fill,Where danced the moon on Monan's rill,And deep his midnight lair had madeIn lone Glenartney's hazel shade.
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Look back, and smile on perils past.
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'What remains?' cried Ivanhoe; 'Glory, maiden, glory! which gilds our sepulchre and embalms our name.'
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Still are the thoughts to memory dear.
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Many miles away there's a shadow on the door of a cottage on the Shore of a dark Scottish lake.
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Women are but the toys which amuse our lighter hours-ambition is the serious business of life.
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Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;Dream of battled fields no more,Days of danger, nights of waking.
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To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
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We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
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Rouse the lion from his lair.
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'Alas! fair Rowena,' returned De Bracy, 'you are in presence of your captive, not your jailor; and it is from your fair eyes that De Bracy must receive that doom which you fondly expect from him.'
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O, Woman! in our hours of ease,Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,And variable as the shadeBy the light quivering aspen made;When pain and anguish wring the brow,A ministering angel thou!
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Lightly from fair to fair he flew,And loved to plead, lament, and sue;Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain,For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
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Widowed wife and wedded maid.
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Pride and jealousy there was in his eye, for his life had been spent in asserting rights which were constantly liable to invasion; and the prompt, fiery, and resolute disposition of the man, had been kept constantly upon the alert by the circumstances of his situation.
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How pleasant it is for a father to sit at his child's board. It is like an aged man reclining under the shadow of an oak which he has planted.
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Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.
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The half hour between waking and rising has all my life proved propitious to any task which was exercising my invention... It was always when I first opened my eyes that the desired ideas thronged upon me.
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With head upraised, and look intent,And eye and ear attentive bent,And locks flung back, and lips apart,Like monument of Grecian art,In listening mood, she seemed to stand,The guardian Naiad of the strand.
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What is a diary as a rule? A document useful to the person who keeps it. Dull to the contemporary who reads it and invaluable to the student, centuries afterwards, who treasures it.
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Oh, poverty parts good company.
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To be ambitious of true honor, of the true glory and perfection of our natures, is the very principle and incentive of virtue.