Great Throughts Treasury

"But she was a soft landscape of mild earth, Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet, Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth."

"But Shakespeare also says, 'tis very silly `To gild refinèd gold, or paint the lily'."

"But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink, Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow."

"But suppose it past,—suppose one of these men, as I have seen them meager with famine, sullen with despair, careless of a life which your lordships are perhaps about to value at something less than the price of a stocking-frame ; suppose this man surrounded by those children for whom he is unable to procure bread at the hazard of his existence, about to be torn forever from a family which he lately supported in peaceful industry, and which it is not his fault than he can no longer so support; suppose this man—and there are ten thousand such from whom you may select your victims,—dragged into court to be tried for this new offence, by this new law,—still there are two things wanting to convict and condemn him, and these are, in my opinion, twelve butchers for a jury, and a Jefferies for a judge!"

"But still her lips refused to say, farewell: for in that word, that fatal word, howe’er we promise, hope, believe, there breathes despair."

"But these are foolish things to all the wise, and I love wisdom more than she loves me; my tendency is to philosophize on most things, from a tyrant to a tree; but still the spouseless virgin knowledge flies, what are we? And whence come we? What shall be our ultimate existence? What's our present? Are questions answerless, and yet incessant."

"But 't was a public feast, and public day,-- Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and dishes cold, Great plenty, much formality, small cheer, And everybody out of their own sphere."

"But thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties; give me a cigar."

"But take this with thee: if I was not form'd to prize a love like thine, a mind like thine, nor dote even on thy beauty — as I've doted on lesser charms, for no cause save that such devotion was a duty, and I hated all that look'd like a chain for me or others (This even rebellion must avouch); yet hear these words, perhaps among my last — that none e'er valued more thy virtues, though he knew not To profit by them…"

"But time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like a snake."

"But Tom's no more - and so no more of Tom."

"But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of."

"But who alas! can love and then be wise?"

"But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, half dust, half deity, alike unfit to sink or soar."

"But who forgives the senior's ceaseless verse, whose hairs grow hoary as his rhymes grow worse?"

"But yet she listen'd--'tis enough-- Who listens once will listen twice; Her heart, be sure, is not of ice, And one refusal no rebuff."

"By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies."

"By all that's good and glorious."

"But who would scorn the month of June, because December with his breath so hoary, Must come? Much rather should he court the ray, to hoard up warmth against a wintry day."

"But words are things and a small drop of ink, falling like a dew, upon a thought produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions think; 'tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses instead of speech, may form a lasting link of ages; to what straits old time reduces frail man, when paper - even a rag like this -, survives himself, his tomb and all that's his."

"But 'why then publish?' There are no rewards of fame or profit when the world grows weary. I ask in turn why do you play at cards? Why drink? Why read? To make some hour less dreary. It occupies me to turn back regards on what I've seen or pondered, sad or cheery, and what I write I cast upon the stream to swim or sink. I have had at least my dream."

"By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mixed embroidery. Their various arms that glitter in the air! What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair, and gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey! All join the chase, but few the triumph share; The grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, and havoc scarce for joy can number their array."

"By many stories, and true, we learn the angels are all Tories."

"By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity. Another man’s, I mean."

"Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be."

"Chaste were his steps, each kept within due bound, and elegance was sprinkled o'er his figure; Like swift Camilla, he scarce skimm'd the ground. And rather held in than put forth his vigor. And then he had an ear for music's sound, which might defy a crotchet critic's rigor. Such classic pas--sans flaws--set off our hero. He glanced like a personified Bolero."

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky."

"Come, lay thy head upon my breast, And I will kiss thee into rest."

"Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolished the right arm Of his own country;--seldom since that day Has Spain had heroes."

"Clime of the unforgotten brave! Whose land from plain to mountain-cave Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave!"

"Champagne with foaming whirls as white as Cleopatra's melted pearls."

"Cool, and quite English, imperturbable."

"Constancy... that small change of love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal."

"Comus all allows; Champagne, dice, music or your neighbor's spouse."

"Critics are already made."

"Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame."

"Curiosity kills itself; and love is only curiosity, as is proved by its end."

"Danger levels man and brute, and all are fellows in their need."

"Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection."

"Dear authors! Suit your topics to your strength, And ponder well your subject, and its length; Nor lift your lad, before you're quite aware What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear."

"Dark-heaving - boundless, endless, and sublime, the image of eternity, the throne of the Invisible."

"Cushion the painful effects of hard blows by keeping the enthusiasm going strong, even if doing so requires struggle."

"Dear Doctor, I have read your play, which is a good one in its way, - Purges the eyes and moves the bowels, And drenches handkerchiefs like towels."

"Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, and yet a third of life is passed in sleep."

"Dead! God, how much there is in that little word!"

"Demons in act, but gods at least in face."

"Deep in my shut and silent heart."

"Decayed in thy glory and sunk in thy worth."

"Deep Vengeance is the daughter of deep Silence."

"Despair and Genius are too oft connected."