Cats are a very mysterious kind of folk. There is always more passing in their minds than we are aware of.
WALTER SCOTTGreat talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.
More Walter Scott Quotes
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Where is the coward that would not dare to fight for such a land as Scotland?
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Nothing is more completely the child of art than a garden.
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Greatness of any kind has no greater foe than a habit of drinking.
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Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
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Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!
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It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an inn, the free rendezvous of all travellers, and where the humour of each displays itself, without ceremony or restraint.
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Teach you children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.
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Steady of heart and stout of hand.
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Real valor consists not in being insensible to danger; but in being prompt to confront and disarm it.
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Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
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Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life.
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And better had they ne’er been born, Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.
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A glass of good wine is a gracious creature, and reconciles poor mortality to itself and that is what few things can do.
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Cats are a mysterious kind of folk.
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Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
WALTER SCOTT -
We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
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Some feelings are to mortals given With less of earth in them than heaven.
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Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion.
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Of all vices, drinking is the most incompatible with greatness.
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Treason seldom dwells with courage.
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The will to do, the soul to dare.
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Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
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To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
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November’s sky is chill and drear, November’s leaf is red and sear.
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Tears are the softening showers which cause the seed of heaven to spring up in the human heart.
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I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as it was said to me.
WALTER SCOTT