Walter Scott Quotes
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We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
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Oh for a blast of that dread horn on Fontarabian echoes borne!
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Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,Come saddle your horses, and call up your men;Come open the West Port, and let me gang free,And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!
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Oh, poverty parts good company.
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Randolph, thy wreath has lost a rose.
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War's a fearsome thing. They'll be cunning that catches me at this wark again.
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And come he slow, or come he fast,It is but Death who comes at last.
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He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit.
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Sea of upturned faces.
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And darest thou thenTo beard the lion in his den,The Douglas in his hall?
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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, in which men steal through existence, like sluggish waters through a marsh, without either honor or observation.
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Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh,The sun has left the lea.The orange flower perfumes the bower,The breeze is on the sea.
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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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O Caledonia! stern and wild,Meet nurse for a poetic child!Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,Land of the mountain and the flood!
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Come one, come all! This rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as I.
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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.
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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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If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,Go visit it by the pale moonlight.
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For ne'erWas flattery lost on poet's ear:A simple race! they waste their toilFor the vain tribute of a smile.
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She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
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Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh,The sun has left the lea.
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'T is an old tale and often told;But did my fate and wish agree,Ne'er had been read, in story old,Of maiden true betray'd for gold,That loved, or was avenged, like me.
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Vacant heart, and hand, and eye,Easy live and quiet die.
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Time rolls his ceaseless course.