Every quotation a nineteenth-century speaker or writer might want, grouped under its subject, with the author, the date and the source given as exactly as Hoyt could manage.
15 quotations from The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations (1896), with the subject each one is filed under.
And there they placed a peacock in his pride, Before the damsel. TENNYSON Gareth and Lynette. Pelican. What, wouldst thou have me turn pelican, and feed thee out of my own vitals?— filed under Birds-Pelican
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, And though a late, a sure reward succeeds.— filed under Blessings
Apophthegmns. And the prettiest foot! Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes to her feet, as they steal in and out, and play at bo-peep under her petticoats!— filed under Foot
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned.— filed under Hatred
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned.— filed under Love
If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see The heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.— filed under Love
Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure, Marry'd in haste, we may repent at leisure.— filed under Matrimony
Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. I've read that things inanimate have moved, And, as with living souls, have been inform'd, By magic numbers and persuasive sound.— filed under Music
He that can't live upon love deserves to die in a ditch.— filed under Proverbs
By magic numbers and persuasive sound. и.— filed under Sound
I came up-stairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar.— filed under Success
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise, To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise; Or should to-morrow chance to cheer thy sight With her enlivening and unlook'd for light How grateful will appear her dawning rays! As favours unexpected doubly please.— filed under To-Morrow
Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she's the moon, and thou art the man in the moon.— filed under Wife
I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.— filed under Wit
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.— filed under Woman