Walter Scott Quotes
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Vacant heart, and hand, and eye,Easy live and quiet die.
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To the timid and hesitating everything is impossible because it seems so.
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A lawyer without history or literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if he possesses some knowledge of these, he may venture to call himself an architect.
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So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
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Faces that have charmed us the most escape us the soonest.
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Success or failure in business is caused more by the mental attitude even than by mental capacities.
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Teach your children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.
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What can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that it runs back to a successful soldier?
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When Israel, of the Lord belov'd,Out of the land of bondage came,Her fathers' God before her mov'd,An awful guide in smoke and flame.
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You have power, rank, command, influence; we have wealth, the source both of our strength and weakness; the value of these toys, ten times multiplied, would not influence half so much as your slightest wish.
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The wind breath'd soft as lover's sigh,And, oft renew'd, seem'd oft to die, With breathless pause between,O who, with speech of war and woes,Would wish to break the soft repose Of such enchanting scene!
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Come as the winds come, whenForests are rended,Come as the waves come, whenNavies are stranded.
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O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!
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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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Saint George and the Dragon!-Bonny Saint George for Merry England!-The castle is won!
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Thus aged men, full loth and slow,The vanities of life forego,And count their youthful follies o'er,Till Memory lends her light no more.
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Respect was mingled with surprise,And the stern joy which warriors feelIn foeman worthy of their steel.
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Where lives the man that has not tried How mirth can into folly glide,And folly into sin!
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He’s expected at noon, and no wight till he comesMay profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums;For the best of the cheer, and the seat by the fire,Is the undenied right of the Barefooted Friar.
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Like the dew on the mountain,Like the foam on the river,Like the bubble on the fountain,Thou art gone, and forever!
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Within that awful volume liesThe mystery, of mysteries!
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In the lost battle,Borne down by the flying,Where mingles war's rattleWith groans of the dying.
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But woe awaits a country whenShe sees the tears of bearded men.
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Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!