The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.
ROBERT BURNSGod 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.
More Robert Burns Quotes
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A women can make an average man great, and a great man average.
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When matters are desperate we must put on a desperate face.
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I’m truly sorry man’s dominion has broken Nature’s social union.
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Oh my luve’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June; Oh my luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in tune.
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I pick my favourite quotations and store them in my mind as ready armour, offensive or defensive, amid the struggle of this turbulent existence.
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My heart ‘s in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart ‘s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer.
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The heart that is generous and kind most resembles God.
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Inspiring bold JohnBarleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi’ usquebae, we’ll face the devil!
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O, wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us, An’ foolish notion.
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Again rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep’d in the morning dews.
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To make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife, That’s the true pathos and sublime Of human life.
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Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those. The bursting tears my heart declare; Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.
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Anticipation forward points the view.
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Oh would some power the gift give us, to see ourselves as others see us!
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The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o’ the morn.
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Some books are lies frae end to end.
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What is life, when wanting love? Night without a morning; Love’s the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.
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God knows, I’m no the thing I should be, Nor am I even the thing I could be.
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The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
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Learn taciturnity and let that be your motto!
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There’s some are fou o’ love divine; There’s some are fou o’ brandy.
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The golden hours on angel wings Flew o’er me and my dearie, For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.
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The honest man, though e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men, for a’ that!
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And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.
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When chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare.
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My Son, these maxims make a rule An lump them ay thegither: The Rigid Righteous is a fool, The Rigid Wise anither.
ROBERT BURNS