There are two reasons for drinking wine...when you are thirsty, to cure it; the other, when you are not thirsty, to prevent it... prevention is better than cure.
The juice of the grape is the liquid quintessence of concentrated sunbeams.
... where the Greeks had modesty, we have cant; where they had poetry, we have cant; where they had patriotism, we have cant; where they had anything that exalts, delights, or adorns humanity, we have nothing but cant, cant, cant.
The waste of plenty is the resource of scarcity.
Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.
They have poisoned the Thames and killed the fish in the river. A little further development of the same wisdom and science will complete the poisoning of the air, and kill the dwellers on the banks. I almost think it is the destiny of science to exterminate the human race.
I never failed to convince an audience that the best thing they could do was to go away.
Laughter is pleasant, but the exertion at my age is too much for me.
Names are changed more readily than doctrines, and doctrines more readily than ceremonies.
Death comes to all. His cold and sapless hand
Waves o'er the world, and beckons us away.
Who shall resist the summons?
How troublesome is day! It calls us from our sleep away; It bids us from our pleasant dreams awake, And sends us forth to keep or break Our promises to pay. How troublesome is day!
He kept at true good humor's mark The social flow of pleasure's tide: He never made a brow look dark, Nor caused a tear, but when he died.
A book that furnishes no quotations is no book - it is a plaything.
The highest wisdom and the highest genius have been invariably accompanied with cheerfulness. We have sufficient proofs on record that Shakespeare and Socrates were the most festive companions.
My quarrel with him is, that his works contain nothing worth quoting; and a book that furnishes no quotations, is me judice, no book,—it is a plaything.
In a bowl to sea went wise men three,
On a brilliant night of June:
They carried a net, and their hearts were set
On fishing up the moon.
My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the past alone, I build My castles in the air.
Marriage may often be a stormy lake, but celibacy is almost always a muddy horsepond.
The critic does his utmost to blight genius in his infancy.
But still my fancy wanders free
Through that which might have been.
Time, the foe of man's dominion,
Wheels around in ceaseless flight,
Scattering from his hoary pinion
Shades of everlasting night.
The present is our own; but while we speak,
We cease from its possession, and resign
The stage we tread on, to another race,
As vain, and gay, and mortal as ourselves.
Man yields to death; and man's sublimest works
Must yield at length to Time.
Not drunk is he who from the floor - Can rise alone and still drink more; But drunk is They, who prostrate lies, Without the power to drink or rise.
Time is lord of thee:
Thy wealth, thy glory, and thy name are his.
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