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Bias: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
You and I were long friends; you are now my enemy, and I am yours.— BENJ. FRANKLIN — Letter to William
Strahan. July 5, 1775. None but yourself who are your greatest foe.— LONGFELLOW — Michael Angelo. Pt. II. 3.
Whatever the number of a man's friends, there will be times in his life when he has one too few; but if he has only one enemy, he is lucky indeed if he has not one too many.— BULWER-LYTTON — What Will He Do With It? Bk. IX. Ch. III.
Introduction. My nearest And dearest enemy.— THOMAS MIDDLETON — Anything for a Quiet Life. Act V. Sc. 1.
And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair! And they heard the words it said- Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!— E. B. BROWNING — The Dead Pan.
Never, believe me, Appear the Immortals, Never alone.— COLERIDGE — The Visit of the Gods.
Imitated from Schiller. Nature's self's thy Ganymede.— ABRAHAM COWLEY — Anacreontics.
The Grasshopper. L. 8. GODS (THE). Creator Venus, genial power of love, The bliss of men below, and gods above! Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race, Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place; For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear, Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year; Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly, Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.— DRYDEN — Palamon and Arcite. Bk. III. L. 1405.
With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.— DRYDEN — Alexander's Feast. L. 37.
Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,- Can your lurking thought surprise, And interpret your device, * * * * * * All things wait for and divine him,- How shall I dare to malign him?— EMERSON — Initial Dæmonic and Celestial Love. Pt. I.
Either Zeus came to earth to shew his form to thee, Phidias, or thou to heaven hast gone the god to see. Greek Anthology. I, Phœbus, sang those songs that gained so much renown I, Phœbus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down. Greek Anthology. Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be In commune held by Pallas and by thee? Her pleasure is in darts and battles; thine In joyous feasts and draughts of rosy wine. Greek Anthology. Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine: A tenth is Sappho, maid divine. Greek Anthology. In saffron-colored mantle from the tides Of Ocean rose the Morning to bring light To gods and men. S.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. XIX. L. 1.
Bryant's trans. The son of Saturn gave The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls Upon the Sovereign One's immortal head Were shaken, and with them the mighty mount, Olympus trembled.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. I. L. 666.
Bryant's trans GODS (THE). Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. I. L. 280.
Bryant's trans. Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales, And the good suffers while the bad prevails.— HOMER — Odyssey. Bk. VI. L. 229.
Pope's trans. Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod, The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god. C.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. I. L. 684.
Pope's trans. The matchless Ganymede, divinely fair.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. 20. L. 278.
Pope's trans. Where'er he moves, the goddess shone before.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. 20. L. 127.
Pope's trans. Of Pan we sing, the best of leaders Pan, That leads the Naiads and the Dryads forth; And to their dances more than Hermes can, Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his worth.— BEN JONSON — Pan's Anniversary
Hymn. I. The gods Grow angry with your patience. 'Tis their care, And must be yours, that guilty men escape not: As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself.— BEN JONSON — Catiline. Act III. Sc. 5.
To that large utterance of the early gods!— KEATS — Hyperion. Bk. I.
High in the home of the summers, the seats of the happy immortals, Shrouded in knee-deep blaze, unapproachable; there ever youthful Hebé, Harmonié, and the daughter of Jove, Aphrodité, Whirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours and Graces.— CHARLES KINGSLEY — Andromeda.
Hoeder, the blind old god Whose feet are shod with silence.— LONGFELLOW — Tegner's Drapa. St. 6.
In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere.— LONGFELLOW — The Builders. St. 5.
GODS (THE). Janus am I; oldest of potentates! Forward I look and backward and below I count as god of avenues and gates- The years that through my portals come and go. I block the roads and drift the fields with snow, I chase the wild-fowl from the frozen fen; My frosts congeal the rivers in their flow, My fires light up the hearths and hearts of men.— LONGFELLOW — Written for the
Children's Almanac. A boy of five years old serene and gay, Unpitying Hades hurried me away. Yet weep not for Callimachus: if few The days I lived, few were my sorrows too.— LUCIAN — Greek Anthology.
No wonder Cupid is a murderous boy; A fiery archer making pain his joy. His dam, while fond of Mars, is Vulcan's wife, And thus 'twixt fire and sword divides her life.— MELEAGER — Greek Anthology.
That moly That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave.— MILTON — Comus. L. 637.
Who knows not Circe, The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape, And downward fell into a groveling swine?— MILTON — Comus. L. 50.
Man is certainly stark mad; he cannot make a flea, and yet he will be making gods by dozens.— MONTAIGNE — Apology for Raimond Sebond. Bk. II. Ch. XII.
The god we now behold with opened eyes, A herd of spotted panthers round him lies In glaring forms; the grapy clusters spread On his fair brows, and dangle on his head.— OVID — Metamorphoses. Bk. III. L. 789.
Addison's trans. The Graces sought some holy ground, Whose sight should ever please; And in their search the soul they found Of Aristophanes.— PLATO — Greek Anthology.
Or ask of yonder argent fields above Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove— POPE — Essay on Man. I. 42.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.— Shakespeare — King Lear. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 38.
GODS (THE). As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 342.
Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 440. I would the gods had made thee poetical.— Shakespeare — As You Like It. Act III. Sc. 3. L. 15.
The basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.— Shakespeare — Henry V. Act III. Sc. 7. L. 17.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us.— Shakespeare — King Lear. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 170.
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid : Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 182.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? Draw near them then in being merciful; Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.— Shakespeare — Titus Andronicus. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 117.
Me goatfoot Pan of Arcady-the Median fear, The Athenian's friend, Miltiades placed here.— SIMONIDES — Greek Anthology.
A glimpse of Breidablick, whose walls are light As e'en the silver on the cliff it shone; Of dark blue steel its columns azure height And the big altar was one agate stone. It seemed as if the air upheld alone Its dome, unless supporting spirits bore it, Studded with stars Odin's spangled throne, A light inscrutable burned fiercely o'er it; In sky-blue mantles, Sat the gold-crowned gods before it.— TEGNER — Fridthjof's Saga. Canto XXIII. St. 13.
But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheeked In a shallop of crystal ivory-beaked.— TENNYSON — The Islet.
Here comes to-day Pallas and Aphrodite, claiming each This meed of fairest.— TENNYSON — Enone. St. 9.