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Quotes by O. W. Holmes
To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old.— filed under Affliction
Familiar Subjects. Art and Life. The one thing that marks the true artist is a clear perception and a firm, bold hand, in distinction from that imperfect mental vision and uncertain touch which give us the feeble pictures and the lumpy statues of the mere artisans on canvas or in stone.— filed under Art
Beauty is the index of a larger fact than wisdom.— filed under Beauty
The crack-brained bobolink courts his crazy mate, Poised on a bulrush tipsy with his weight.— filed under Birds-Canary
The foolishest book is a kind of leaky boat on a sea of wisdom; some of the wisdom will get in anyhow.— filed under Books
Eve. Good to the heels the well-worn slipper feels When the tired player shuffles off the buskin; A page of Hood may do a fellow good After a scolding from Carlyle or Ruskin. S.— filed under Change
We must have a weak spot or two in a character before we can love it much. People that do not laugh or cry, or take more of anything than is good for them, or use anything but dictionary-words, are admirable subjects for biographies. But we don't care most for those flat pattern flowers that press best in the herbarium.— filed under Character
Whatever comes from the brain carries the hue of the place it came from, and whatever comes from the heart carries the heat and color of its birthplace.— filed under Character
You hear that boy laughing? You think he's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done. The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!— filed under Childhood
The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city.— filed under Circumstance
Boston State-house is the hub of the solar system. You couldn't pry that out of a Boston man if you had the tire of all creation straightened out for a crow-bar.— filed under Cities-Delft
Everything is twice as large, measured on a three-year-old's three-foot scale as on a thirty-year-old's six-foot scale.— filed under Comparisons
Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone, (A very plain brown stone will do), That I may call my own;- And close at hand is such a one In yonder street that fronts the sun.— filed under Content
And when you stick on conversation's burs, Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs.— filed under Conversation
His home!-the Western giant smiles, And turns the spotty globe to find it ;- This little speck the British Isles? 'Tis but a freckle, -never mind it.— filed under Countries-America
The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has pressed In their bloom; And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.— filed under Death
Of course everybody likes and respects selfmade men. It is a great deal better to be made in that way than not to be made at all.— filed under Education
Before the Ears. Thine eye was on the censer, And not the hand that bore it.— filed under Eyes
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.— filed under Falsehood
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky.— filed under Flags
Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the God of storms, The lightning and the gale.— filed under Flags
Yellow japanned buttercups and star-disked dandelions,-just as we see them lying in the grass, like sparks that have leaped from the kindling sun of summer.— filed under Flirting
Friendship closes its eye, rather than see the moon eclipst; while malice denies that it is ever at the full. 0. J. C. and A. W. HARE-Guesses at Truth. Friendship is Love, without either flowers or veil. p. J. C. and A. W. HARE-Guesses at Truth. Fast as the rolling seasons bring The hour of fate to those we love, Each pearl that leaves the broken string Is set in Friendship's crown above. As narrower grows the earthly chain, The circle widens in the sky; These are our treasures that remain, But those are stars that beam on high.— filed under Friendship
There are three wicks you know to the lamp of a man's life: brain, blood, and breath. Press the brain a little, its light goes out, followed by both the others. Stop the heart a minute, and out go all three of the wicks. Choke the air out of the lungs, and presently the fluid ceases to supply the other centres of flame, and all is soon stagnation, cold, and darkness.— filed under Hearing
Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; A mother's secret hope outlives them all.— filed under Hope
I never dare to write As funny as I can.— filed under Humor
Katydid. Thou art a female, Katydid! I know it by the trill That quivers through thy piercing notes So petulant and shrill. I think there is a knot of you Beneath the hollow tree, A knot of spinster Katydids, - Do Katydids drink tea?— filed under Insects-Katydid
People that make puns are like wanton boys that put coppers on the railroad tracks.— filed under Jesting
You hear that boy laughing?-you think he's all fun; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done; The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all.— filed under Laughter
Of Books. Maxim 1. Every library should try to be complete on something, if it were only the history of pinheads.— filed under Libraries
Breakfast Table. VIII. The first thing naturally when one enters a scholar's study or library, is to look at his books. One gets a notion very speedily of his tastes and the range of his pursuits by a glance round his book-shelves.— filed under Libraries
Soft is the breath of a maiden's Yes: Not the light gossamer stirs with less; But never a cable that holds so fast Through all the battles of wave and blast.— filed under Love
Swift and Gay.) Wake in our breast the living fires, The holy faith that warmed our sires; Thy hand hath made our Nation free; To die for her is serving Thee.— filed under Loyalty
There are a good many real miseries in life that we cannot help smiling at, but they are the smiles that make wrinkles and not dimples.— filed under Misery
I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat And the breeches and all that Are so queer.— filed under Occupations-Hatters
The hat is the ultimum moriens of respectability.— filed under Occupations-Hatters
I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica could be sunk to the bottom of the sea, it would be all the better for mankind and all the worse for the fishes.— filed under Occupations-Law
Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wears Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares: Uneasy lies the heads of all that rule, His worst of all whose kingdom is a school. Supreme he sits; before the awful frown That binds his brows the boldest eye goes down; Not more submissive Israel heard and saw At Sinai's foot the Giver of the Law.— filed under Occupations-Tailoring
Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my friend, the Historian, in one of his flashing moments: "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."— filed under Paradox
Congress. Sept. 5, 1774, One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, One Nation evermore!— filed under Patriotism
In his own verse the poet still we find, In his own page his memory lives enshrined, As in their amber sweets the smothered bees, - As the fair cedar, fallen before the breeze, Lies self-embalmed amidst the mouldering trees.— filed under Poets
Bryant's Seventieth Birthday. St. 17 and 18. We call those poets who are first to mark Through earth's dull mist the coming of the dawn,- Who see in twilight's gloom the first pale spark, While others only note that day is gone.— filed under Poets
Where go the poet's lines?- Answer, ye evening tapers! Ye auburn locks, ye golden curls, Speak from your folded papers!— filed under Poets
Address. March 5, 1877. The freeman casting, with unpurchased hand, The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.— filed under Politics
Yes, child of suffering, thou may'st well be sure He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!— filed under Poverty
Merrimack. Do pilgrims find their way to Indian Ridge, Or journey onward to the far-off bridge, And bring to younger ears the story back Of the broad stream, the mighty Merrimack?— filed under Rivers-Lee
The summer's throbbing chant is done And mute the choral antiphon; The birds have left the shivering pines To flit among the trellised vines, Or fan the air with scented plumes Amid the love-sick orange blooms, And thou art here alone, -alone, - Sing, little bird! the rest have flown.— filed under Sows
And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound.— filed under Silence
Gravity. SOUL (THE). Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!— filed under Sorrow
The flowering moments of the mind Drop half their petals in our speech.— filed under Speech
Montaigne Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame? A fitful tongue of leaping flame; A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust, That lifts a pinch of mortal dust; A few swift years, and who can show Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe?— filed under Students
The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.— filed under Students
Stop not, unthinking, every friend you meet To spin your wordy fabric in the street; While you are emptying your colloquial pack, The fiend Lumbago jumps upon his back.— filed under Talk
Job VI. 29. A thought is often original, though you have uttered it a hundred times.— filed under Thought
Old Time, in whose banks we deposit our notes, Is a miser who always wants guineas for groats; He keeps all his customers still in arrears By lending them minutes and charging them years.— filed under Time
Porch. Truth is tough. It will not break, like a bubble, at a touch; nay, you may kick it about all day, like a foot-ball, and it will be round and full at evening.— filed under Truth
Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose, While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose! How blest to the toiler his hour of release When the vesper is heard with its whisper of peace!— filed under Twilight
The lengthening shadows wait The first pale stars of twilight.— filed under Twilight
Declaration of Independence. July 4, 1776. God Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky : Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts cuts the die! Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel, The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal!— filed under Unity
Vain? Let it be so! Nature was her teacher, What if a lovely and unsistered creature Loved her own harmless gift of pleasing feature.— filed under Vanity
Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone (A very plain brown stone will do), That I may call my own; And close at hand is such a one In yonder street that fronts the sun.— filed under Wishes