Dare to be honest and fear no labor. … Opera is where a man gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.
ROBERT BURNSO Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
More Robert Burns Quotes
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God knows, I’m not the thing I should be, Nor am I even the thing I could be, But twenty times I rather would be An atheist clean, Than under gospel colours hid be Just for a screen.
ROBERT BURNS -
Inspiring bold JohnBarleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi’ usquebae, we’ll face the devil!
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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 heart that is generous and kind most resembles God.
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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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The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy.
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Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn!
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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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I want someone to laugh with me, someone to be grave with me, someone to please me and help my discrimination with his or her own remark, and at times, no doubt, to admire my acuteness and penetration.
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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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Learn taciturnity and let that be your motto!
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But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever.
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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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Nae man can tether time or tide.
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Nature’s law, That man was made to mourn. Man’s inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn! O Death, the poor man’s dearest friend, The kindest and the best!
ROBERT BURNS