I have a hundred times wished that one could resign life as an officer resigns a commission.
ROBERT BURNSThe wide world is all before us – but a world without a friend.
More Robert Burns Quotes
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And O! be sure to fear the Lord alway, And mind your duty, duly, morn and night; Lest in temptation’s path ye gang astray, Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright.
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If there’s another world, he lives in bliss; if there is none, he made the best of this.
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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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Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
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Dare to be honest and fear no labor.
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The wisest man the warl’ e’er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O.
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But facts are chiels that winna ding, An’ downa be disputed.
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Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed.
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Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!
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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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How wretched is the person who hangs on by the favors of the powerful.
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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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Painters and poets have liberty to lie.
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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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The honest man, though e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men, for a’ that!
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There’s some are fou o’ love divine; There’s some are fou o’ brandy.
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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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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.
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Life is but a day at most.
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Some wee short hour ayont the twal.
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To step aside is human.
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Here’s to us, who’s like us Damn few, and they’re all dead.
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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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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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O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
ROBERT BURNS