Reference > Quotations > C.N. Douglas, comp. > Forty Thousand Quotations > Primary Author Index
C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
        And, to all married men, be this a caution,
Which they should duly tender as their life,
Neither to doat too much, nor doubt a wife.
                As if thou e’er wert angry
But with thy tailor! and yet that poor shred
Can bring more to the making up of a man,
Than can be hoped from thee; thou art his creature;
And did he not, each morning, new create thee,
Thou’dst stink and be forgotten.
                            Be wise;
Soar not too high to fall; but stoop to rise.
We end our pilgrimage, ’tis fit that we
Should leave corruption, and foul sin, behind us,
But with wash’d feet and hands, the heathens dar’ not
Enter their profane temples; and for me
To hope my passage to eternity
Can be made easy, till I have shook off
The burthen of my sins in free confession,
Aided with sorrow, and repentance for them,
Is against reason.
        Detraction’s a bold monster and fears not
To wound the fame of princes if it find
But any blemish in their lives to work on.
              Equal nature fashion’d us
All in one mould.    *    *    *
      All’s but the outward gloss
And politic form that does distinguish us.
        Factions among yourselves; preferring such
To offices and honors, as ne’er read
The elements of saving policy;
But deeply skilled in all the principles
That usher to destruction.
                          —From the king
To the beggar, by gradation, all are servants;
And you must grant, the slavery is less
To study to please one, than many.
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard valor.
This life’s a fort committed to my trust,
Which I must not yield up, till it be forced:
Nor will I. He’s not valiant that dares die,
But he that boldly bears calamity.
                            Honour is
Virtue’s allowed ascent: honour that clasps
All perfect justice in her arms; that craves
No more respect than that she gives; that does
Nothing but what she’ll suffer.
        How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman!
It is so seldom heard, that, when it speaks,
It ravishes all senses.
        I have play’d the fool, the gross fool, to believe
The bosom of a friend will hold a secret
Mine own could not retain.
        It is true fortitude to stand firm against
All shocks of fate, when cowards faint and die
In fear to suffer more calamity.
                        Man was mark’d
A friend in his creation to himself,
And may, with fit ambition, conceive
The greatest blessings, and the highest honors
Appointed for him, if he can achieve them
The right and noble way.
        One grain of incense with devotion offer’d,
Beyond all perfumes, or Sabæan spices.
        Some undone widow sits upon mine arm,
And takes away the use of it; and my sword,
Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphan’s tears,
Will not be drawn.
        That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it;
And at the best shows but a bastard valor.
        True dignity is never gained by place,
And never lost when honours are withdrawn.
                    What a fine man
Hath your tailor made you!
        What can innocence hope for,
When such as sit her judges are corrupted?
        Why here’s a villain,
Able to corrupt a thousand by example.
        Without good company all dainties
Lose their true relish, and like painted grapes,
Are only seen, not tasted.
        Yes, if they would thank their maker,
And seek no further; but they have new creators,
God tailor and god mercer.
        You have not, as good patriots should do, studied
The public good, but your particular ends:
Factious among yourselves; preferring such
To offices and honors, as ne’er read
The elements of saving policy;
But deeply skill’d in all the principles
That usher to destruction.
  A summer friendship, whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us in our prosperity, with the least gust drop off in the autumn of adversity.  25
  As the index tells us the contents of stories and directs to the particular chapter, even so does the outward habit and superficial order of garments (in man or woman) give us a taste of the spirit, and demonstratively point (as it were a manual note from the margin) all the internal quality of the soul; and there cannot be a more evident, palpable, gross manifestation of poor, degenerate, dunghilly blood and breeding than a rude, unpolished, disordered, and slovenly outside.  26
  Black detraction will find faults where they are not.  27
  Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, and it is that which crowns a welcome.  28
  Conscience and wealth are not always neighbors.  29
  Death hath a thousand doors to let out life.  30
  For any man to match above his rank is but to sell his liberty.  31
  Gold—the picklock that never fails.  32
  Great minds erect their never-failing trophies on the firm base of mercy.  33
  He is not valiant that dares lie; but he that boldly bears calamity.  34
  How sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman! It is so seldom heard that when it speaks, it ravishes all senses.  35
  I have played the fool, the gross fool, to believe the bosom of a friend would hold a secret mine could not contain.  36
  Ill news are swallow-winged, but what is good walks on crutches.  37
  Like virgin parchment, capable of any inscription.  38
  Malice, scorned, puts out itself; but, argued, gives a kind of credit to a false accusation.  39
  Out, you impostors, quack-salving, cheating mountebanks! Your skill is to make sound men sick, and sick men kill.  40
  Petitions, not sweetened with gold, are but unsavory and oft refused; or, if received, are pocketed, not read.  41
  Revenge, that thirsty dropsy of our souls, makes us covet that which hurts us most.  42
  The over curious are not over wise.  43
  The picklock that never fails.  44
  The soul is strong that trusts in goodness.  45
  Thou art figured blind, and yet we borrow our best sight from thee.  46
  ’Tis the only discipline we are born for; all studies else are but as circular lines, and death the center where they all must meet.  47
  To all married men be this caution, which they should duly tender as their life: Neither to doat too much, nor doubt a wife.  48
  To doubt is worse than to have lost; and to despair is but to antedate those miseries that must fall on us.  49
  True dignity is never gained by place, and never lost when honors are withdrawn.  50
  Virtue, thou in rags, may challenge more than vice set off with all the trim of greatness.  51
  Without good company, all dainties lose their true relish, and, like painted grapes, are only seen, not tasted.  52

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2015 · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors · World Lit.