There never will exist anything permanently noble and excellent in the character which is a stranger to resolute self-denial.
WALTER SCOTTFrom my experience, not one in twenty marries the first love; we build statues of snow and weep to see them melt.
More Walter Scott Quotes
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Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men; Come open the West Port, and let me gang free, And it’s room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!
WALTER SCOTT -
The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition of constant close contact.
WALTER SCOTT -
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
WALTER SCOTT -
The half hour between waking and rising has all my life proved propitious to any task which was exercising my invention… It was always when I first opened my eyes that the desired ideas thronged upon me.
WALTER SCOTT -
A sound head, an honest heart, and an humble spirit are the three best guides through time and to eternity.
WALTER SCOTT -
A good deal of philanthropy arises in general from mere vanity and love of distinction gilded over to others and to themselves with some show of benevolent sentiment.
WALTER SCOTT -
If you once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, it is all over. Bolt up at once.
WALTER SCOTT -
Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
WALTER SCOTT -
Credit is like a looking-glass, which when once sullied by a breath, may be wiped clear again; but if once cracked can never be repaired.
WALTER SCOTT -
Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.
WALTER SCOTT -
The will to do, the soul to dare.
WALTER SCOTT -
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man’s heart through half the year.
WALTER SCOTT -
Many of our cares are but a morbid way of looking at our privileges
WALTER SCOTT -
I was born a Scotsman and a bare one. Therefore I was born to fight my way in the world.
WALTER SCOTT -
November’s sky is chill and drear, November’s leaf is red and sear.
WALTER SCOTT