Sir Walter Scott
The will to do, the soul to dare.
Oh what a tangled web we weave,When first we practise to deceive!
O! many a shaft, at random sent,Finds mark the archer little meant;And many a word, at random spoken,May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!
To all, to each, a fair good night,And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
To be always intending to live a new life, but never find time to set about it - this is as if a man should put off eating and drinking from one day to another till he be starved and destroyed.
He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit.
But search the land of living men,Wher wilst thou find their like again.
Heap on more wood - the wind is chill;But let it whistle as it will,We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Too much rest is rust.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poorest man's heart thru half the year.
One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name.
And come he slow, or come he fast,It is but death who comes at last.
If you have no friends to share or rejoice in your success in life - if you cannot look back to those whom you owe gratitude, or forward to those to whom you ought to afford protection, still it is no less incumbent on you to move steadily in the path of duty; for your active excretions are due not only to society; but in humble gratitude to the Being who made you a member of it, with powers to save yourself and others.
The rose is fairest when 'tis budding new,And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.The rose is sweetest with morning dew,And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears.