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Content: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Grown all to all, from no one vice exempt, And most contemptible to shun contempt.— POPE — Moral Essays. Pt. III. L. 21.
Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead?— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. I. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 55.
But, alas! to make me A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at!— Shakespeare — Othello. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 53.
Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 378.
He talks to me that never had a son.— Shakespeare — King John. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 91.
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Julius Cæsar. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 27. I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face, Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee. S.— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 49.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip!— Shakespeare — Twelfth Night. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 156.
Content thyself to be obscurely good. When vice prevails and impious men bear sway, The post of honor is a private station.— ADDISON — Cato. Act IV. Sc. 4.
Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings, But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings.— WM. R. ALGER — Oriental Poetry.
Elbow Room. Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?— BARNABE BARNES — Parthenophil and
Parthenophe Happy am I; from care I'm free! Why aren't they all contented like me? X. Opera of La Bayadère. From labour health, from health contentment spring; Contentment opes the source of every joy.— JAMES BEATTIE — The Minstrel. Bk. 1. St. 13.
In Paris a queer little man you may see, A little man all in gray; Rosy and round as an apple is he, Content with the present whate'er it may be, While from care and from cash he is equally free, And merry both night and day! "Ma foi! I laugh at the world," says he, "I laugh at the world, and the world laughs at me!" What a gay little man in gray.— BERANGER — The Little Man all in Gray. Trans. by Amelia B. Edwards.
There was a jolly miller once, Lived on the River Dee; He worked and sang, from morn to night; No lark so blithe as he. And this the burden of his song, Forever used to be,- "I care for nobody, not I, If no one cares for me.— BICKERSTAFF — Love in a Village. Act I. Sc. 5.
Some things are of that nature as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.— BUNYAN — The Author's Way of Sending
Forth his Second Part of the Pilgrim. L. 126. Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair— BURNS — Contented wi' Little.
I'll be merry and free, I'll be sad for nae-body; If nae-body cares for me, I'll care for nae-body.— BURNS — Nae-body.
With more of thanks and less of thought, I strive to make my matters meet; To seek what ancient sages sought, Physic and food in sour and sweet, To take what passes in good part, And keep the hiccups from the heart.— JOHN BYROM — Careless Content.
I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should have my will, and having my will, I should be contented; and when one is contented, there is no more to be desired; and when there is no more to be desired, there is an end of it.— CERVANTES — Don Quixote. Pt. I. Bk. IV. Ch. XXIII.
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sunthaw; whether the evedrops fall, Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet moon.— COLERIDGE — Frost at Midnight.
We'll therefore relish with content, Whate'er kind Providence has sent, Nor aim beyond our pow'r; For, if our stock be very small, 'Tis prudent to enjoy it all, Nor lose the present hour.— NATHANIEL COTTON — The Fireside. St. 10.
Enjoy the present hour, be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish th' approaches of the last.— COWLEY — Imitations. Martial. Lib. X.
Ep. XLVII. 'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, To peep at such a world; to see the stir Of the Great Babel, and not feel the crowd.— COWPER — The Task. Bk. IV. L. 88.
Content with poverty, my soul I arm; And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.— DRYDEN — Third Book of Horace. Ode 29.
He trudged along, unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.— DRYDEN — Cymon and Iphigenia. L. 84.
Since every man who lives is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens let us bear, Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims, to th' appointed place we tend; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end.— DRYDEN — Palamon and Arcite. Bk. III. L. 2,159.
Map me no maps, sir; my head is a map, a map of the whole world.— FIELDING — Rape upon Rape. Act.I. Sc. 5.
Give me, kind Heaven, a private station, A mind serene for contemplation: Title and profit I resign; The post of honour shall be mine.— GAY — Fables. Pt. II. The Vulture,
the Sparrow and other Birds. What happiness the rural maid attends, In cheerful labour while each day she spends! She gratefully receives what Heav'n has sent, And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.— GAY — Rural Sports. Canto II. L. 148.
Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.— GOLDSMITH — The Hermit. St. 8.
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 210.
S. Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails, And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 91.
Happy the man, of mortals happiest he, Whose quiet mind from vain desires is free; Whom neither hopes deceive, nor fears torment, But lives at peace, within himself content; In thought, or act, accountable to none But to himself, and to the gods alone. GEO. GRANVILLE (Lord Lansdowne) — Epistle to Mrs. Higgons, 1690. L. 79. Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content; The quiet mind is richer than a crown; Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent; The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown: Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss.— ROBERT GREENE — Song. Farewell to
Folly. Let's live with that small pittance which we have; Who covets more is evermore a slave.— HERRICK — The Covetous Still Captive.
Praise they that will times past, I joy to see My selfe now live: this age best pleaseth mee.— HERRICK — The Present Time Best
Pleaseth. Let the world slide, let the world go; A fig for care and a fig for woe! If I can't pay, why I can owe, And death makes equal the high and low.— JOHN HEYWOOD — Be Merry Friends.
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.— O. W. HOLMES — Contentment.
Yes! in the poor man's garden grow, Far more than herbs and flowers, Kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind, And joy for weary hours.— MARY HOWITT — The Poor Man's Garden.
Contentment furnishes constant joy. Much covetousness, constant grief. To the contented, even poverty is joy. To the discontented, even wealth is a vexation.— MING SUM PAOU KEEN — In Chinese Repository. Trans. by Dr. Milne.
O what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent!— LONGFELLOW — Autumn.
Stone walls doe not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage, Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage.— LOVELACE — To Althea from Prison.
Percy's Reliques. 343. I rest content; I kiss your eyes, I kiss your hair in my delight: I kiss my hand and say "Good-night."— JOAQUIN MILLER — Songs of the Sun- Lands. Isles of the Amazons. Pt. V.
Introductory Stanzas. So well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best.— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 548.
No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us!— MOORE — Come O'er the Sea.
The eagle nestles near the sun; The dove's low nest for me!- The eagle's on the crag; sweet one, The dove's in our green tree! For hearts that beat like thine and mine Heaven blesses humble earth ;- The angels of our Heaven shall shine The angels of our Hearth!— J. J. PIATT — A Song of Content.
Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, Not one will change his neighbor with himself.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. II. L. 261.
For mine own part, I could be well content To entertain the lag-end of my life With quiet hours.— Shakespeare — Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 23.
He is well paid that is well satisfied.— Shakespeare — Merchant of Venice. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 415.
He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get.— Shakespeare — S. Comedy of Errors. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 33.
I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness; glad of other men's good, content with my harm.— Shakespeare — As You Like It. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 77.
If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate. U.— Shakespeare — Othello. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 191,
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is called content; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. III. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 63.
My more-having would be as a sauce To make me hunger more.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 81.
Our content Is our best having.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 23.
Shut up In measureless content.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 17.
The shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leathern bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. III. Act II. Sc. 5. L. 47.
'Tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 19.
'Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve.— Shakespeare — Romeo and Juliet. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 102.
The noblest mind the best contentment has.— SPENSER — Faerie Queene. Bk. I. Canto I. St. 35.
Dear little head, that lies in calm content Within the gracious hollow that God made In every human shoulder, where He meant Some tired head for comfort should be laid.— CELIA THAXTER — Song.
An elegant Sufficiency, Content, Retirement, rural Quiet, Friendship, Books, Ease and alternate Labor, useful Life, Progressive Virtue, and approving Heaven!— THOMSON — The Seasons. Spring. L. 1,159.
This is the charm, by sages often told, Converting all it touches into gold : Content can soothe, where'er by fortune placed, Can rear a garden in the desert waste.— HENRY KIRK WHITE — Clifton Grove. L. 130.
Ille potens sui Lætusque deget, cui licet in diem Dixisse Vixi; cras vel atrâ Nube polum pater occupato, Vel sole puro, non tamen irritum Quodcunque retro est efficiet. That man lives happy and in command of himself, who from day to day can say I have lived. Whether clouds obscure, or the sun illumines the following day, that which is past is beyond recall.— HORACE — Carmina. III. 29. 41.
Multa petentibus Desunt multa; bene est cui deus obtulit Parca quod satis est manu. Those who want much, are alway much in need; happy the man to whom God gives with a sparing hand what is sufficient for his wants.— HORACE — Carmina. III. 16. 42.
Nec vixit malê qui natus moriensque fefellit. Nor has he spent his life badly who has passed it in privacy.— HORACE — Epistolæ. I. 17. 10.