Ye Hypocrites, are these your pranks To murder men and gie God thanks Desist for shame, proceed no further God won’t accept your thanks for murder.
ROBERT BURNSA women can make an average man great, and a great man average.
More Robert Burns Quotes
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Suspicion is a heavy armor and with its weight it impedes more than it protects.
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She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o’ mine.
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But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever. Had we never lou’d sae kindly, Had we never lou’d sae blindly, Never met – or never parted – We had ne’er been broken hearted.
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My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav’n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
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Be Briton still to Britain true, Among oursel’s united; For never but by British hands Maun British wrangs be righted.
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Dare to be honest and fear no labor. … Opera is where a man gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.
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Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O’er a’ the ills o’ life victorious.
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Some rhyme a neebor’s name to lash; Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu’ cash; Some rhyme to court the countra clash, An’ raise a din; For me, an aim I never fash; I rhyme for fun.
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The trout in yonder wimpling burn – That glides, a silver dart, – And, safe beneath the shady thorn, – Defies the anglers art.
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Painters and poets have liberty to lie.
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God help the teacher, if a man of sensibility and genius, when a booby father presents him with his booby son, and insists on lighting up the rays of science in a fellow’s head whose skull is impervious and inaccessible by any other way than a positive fracture with a cudgel.
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A mind that is conscious of its integrity scorns to say more than it means to perform.
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The upright, honest-hearted man Who strives to do the best he can, Need never fear the church’s ban Or hell’s damnation.
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Some wee short hour ayont the twal.
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But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it’s bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.
ROBERT BURNS