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Life: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Every man's life is a fairy-tale written by God's fingers.— HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN — Preface
to Works. Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep, Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.— EDWIN ARNOLD — Light of Asia. Bk. V. L. 401.
With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built do we discern.— MATTHEW ARNOLD — Morality. St. 2.
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man less than a span : In his conception wretched, from the womb so to the tomb; Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years with cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, But limns the water, or but writes in dust.— BACON — Life. Preface to the
Translation of Certain Psalms. It matters not how long we live, but how.— BAILEY — Festus. Sc. Wood and Water.
Life hath more awe than death.— BAILEY — Festus. Sc. Wood and Water.
We live in deeds, not years: in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.— BAILEY — Festus. Sc. A Country Town.
Life! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather: 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear : Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time, Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime Bid me Good-morning.— ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD — Life.
Our lives are but our marches to the grave.— BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER — The Humorous Lieutenant. Act III. Sc. 5. L. 76.
We sleep, but the loom of life never stops; and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up to-morrow.— HENRY WARD BEECHER — Life
Thoughts. P. 12. Life, believe, is not a dream, So dark as sages say; Oft a little morning rain Foretells a pleasant day!— CHARLOTTE BRONTE — Life.
Life is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible sun within us.— SIR THOMAS BROWNE — Hydriotaphia. Ch. V.
Whose life is a bubble, and in length a span.— S. WM. BROWNE — Britannia Pastorals. Bk. I. Song II.
I know is all the mourner saith, Knowledge by suffering entereth; And Life is perfected by Death.— E. B. BROWNING — Vision of Poets. St. 321.
Have you found your life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.— ROBERT BROWNING — At the "Mermaid." St. 10.
I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.— ROBERT BROWNING — In a Balcony.
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.— ROBERT BROWNING — Prospice.
Life is a kind of Sleep: old Men sleep longest, nor begin to wake but when they are to die. C.— DE LA BRUYÈRE — The Characters or
Manners of the Present Age. On Men. Ch. XI. Life is but a day at most.— BURNS — Friars' Carse Hermitage.
O, Life! how pleasant is thy morning, Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning! Cold pausing Caution's lesson scorning, We frisk away, Like schoolboys, at the expected warning, To joy and play.— BURNS — Epistle to James Smith.
O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!— BURNS — Despondency.
All is concentred in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto III. St. 89.
Did man compute Existence by enjoyment, and count o'er Such hours 'gainst years of life, say, would he name threescore?— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto III. St. 34.
Our life is two-fold; sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence.— BYRON — The Dream. St. 1. L. 1.
The dust we tread upon was once alive.— BYRON — Sardanapalus. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 66.
Heaven gives our years of fading strength Indemnifying fleetness; And those of Youth a seeming length, Proportioned to their sweetness.— CAMPBELL — A Thought Suggested by
the New Year. A well-written life is almost as rare as a well-spent one.— CARLYLE — Essays. Jean Paul Fried-
rich Richter.
One life;-a little gleam of Time between two Eternities.— CARLYLE — Heroes and Hero Worship.
The Hero as a Man of Letters. There is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.— CARLYLE — Essays. Memoirs on the
Life of Scott. How many lives we live in one, And how much less than one, in all.— ALICE CARY — Life's Mysteries.
Life is but thought.— COLERIDGE — Youth and Age.
To know, to esteem, to love, and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart.— COLERIDGE — On Taking Leave of -.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right.— ABRAHAM COWLEY — On the Death of Mr. Crashaw. L. 56.
Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live. S.— ABRAHAM COWLEY — Martial. Lib. II.
XC. Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.— COWPER — Hope. L. 127.
Oh, that those lips had language! Life has pass'd With me but roughly since I heard thee last.— COWPER — On the Receipt of my Mother's
Picture. Our wasted oil unprofitably burns, Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns.— COWPER — Conversation. L. 357.
What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations, and its vast concerns?— COWPER — The Task. Bk. IV. L. 55.
Let's learn to live, for we must die alone.— CRABBE — The Borough. Letter X.
Life is not measured by the time we live.— CRABBE — The Village. Bk. II.
Shall he who soars, inspired by loftier views, Life's little cares and little pains refuse? Shall he not rather feel a double share Of mortal woe, when doubly arm'd to bear?— CRABBE — The Library.
Learn to live well, that thou may'st die so too; To live and die is all we have to do. aa,— SIR JOHN DENHAM — Of Prudence. L. 93.
My life is one demd horrid grind.— DICKENS — Nicholas Nickleby. Vol. II. Ch. XXXII.
"Live, while you live," the epicure would say, 6: And seize the pleasures of the present day; "Live, while you live," the sacred preacher cries, "And give to God each moment as it flies." 36 Lord, in my views let both united be; I live in pleasure, when I live to Thee."— PHILIP DODDRIDGE — " Dum vivimus
vivamus." Lines written under— Motto of his Family Arms
My life lies in those eyes which have me slain.— DRUMMOND — Sonnet XXIX. L. 14.
So that my life be brave, what though not long?— DRUMMOND — Sonnet.
Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease.— DRYDEN — Absalom and Achitophel. L. 168.
Take not away the life you cannot give: For all things have an equal right to live.— DRYDEN — Pythagorean Phil. L. 705.
'Tis not for nothing that we life pursue; It pays our hopes with something still that's new.— DRYDEN — Aureng-Zebe. Act IV. Sc. 1.
When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit.— DRYDEN — Aureng-Zebe. Act IV. Sc. 1.
A little rule, a little sway, A sunbeam in a winter's day, Is all the proud and mighty have Between the cradle and the grave.— JOHN DYER — Grongar Hill. L. 89.
A man's ingress into the world is naked and bare, His progress through the world is trouble and care; And lastly, his egress out of the world, is nobody knows where. If we do well here, we shall do well there; I can tell you no more if I preach a whole year.— JOHN EDWIN — The Eccentricities of John Edwin (second edition). Vol. I.
P. 74. Life's a vast sea That does its mighty errand without fail, Painting in unchanged strength though waves are changing.— GEORGE ELIOT — Spanish Gypsy. Bk. III.
Life is short and time is swift; Roses fade, and shadows shift.— EBENEZER ELLIOT — Epigram.
Sooner or later that which is now life shall be poetry, and every fair and manly trait shall add a richer strain to the song.— EMERSON — Letters and Social Aims.
Poetry and Imagination. When life is true to the poles of nature, the streams of truth will roll through us in song.— EMERSON — Letters and Social Aims.
Poetry and Imagination. *** and living in a Born in a Cellar, Garret.— FOOTE — The Author. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 375.
Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of.— BENJ. FRANKLIN — Poor Richard.
We live merely on the crust or rind of things.— FROUDE — Short Studies on Great
Subjects. Lucian. How short is life! how frail is human trust!— GAY — Trivia. Bk. III. L. 235.
The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form. S.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 138.
Along the cool sequestered vale of life, They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.— GRAY — Elegy in a Country Churchyard. St. 19.
I made a posy, while the day ran by: Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band. But time did beckon to the flowers, and they By noon most cunningly did steal away, And wither'd in my hand.— HERBERT — Life.
Life is short, art long.— HIPPOCRATES — Aphorisms. Sec. 1.
No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.— THOMAS HOBBES — Leviathan. Pt. I. Of Man. Ch. XVIII.
For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain, And twins ev'n from the birth are Misery and Man!— HOMER — Odyssey. Bk. VII. L. 263.
Pope's trans, Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold; Not all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold, Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway, Can bribe the poor possession of the day.— HOMER — Iliad. Bk. IX. L. 524.
Pope's trans. There is but halting for the wearied foot; The better way is hidden. Faith hath failed; One stronger far than reason mastered her. It is not reason makes faith hard, but life.— JEAN INGELOW — A Pastor's Letter to a Young Poet. Pt. II. L. 231.
Catch, then, oh! catch the transient hour, Improve each moment as it flies; Life's a short summer-man a flower; He dies-alas! how soon he dies!— SAM'L JOHNSON — Winter. An Ode. L. 33.
"Enlarge my life with multitude of days!" In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays: Hides from himself its state, and shuns to know, That life protracted is protracted woe.— SAM'L JOHNSON — Vanity of Human Wishes. L. 255.
In life's last scene what prodigies surprise, Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow, And Swift expires a driveller and a show.— SAM'L JOHNSON — Vanity of Human Wishes. L. 315.
Learn that the present hour alone is man's.— SAM'L JOHNSON — Irene. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 33.
Reflect that life, like every other blessing, Derives its value from its use alone.— SAM'L JOHNSON — Irene. Act III. Sc. 8. L. 28.
Our whole life is like a play.— BEN JONSON — Discoveries de Vita
Humana. A sacred burden is this life ye bear, Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly, Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly; Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.— FRANCIS ANNE KEMBLE — Lines to the
Young Gentlemen leaving the Lennox Academy, Mass. But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.— OMAR KHAYYAM — Rubaiyát. LXIX.
Fitzgerald's trans. Life will be lengthened while growing, for Thought is the measure of life.— LELAND — The Return of the Gods. L. 85.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.— LONGFELLOW — A Psalm of Life. St. 4.
Life hath quicksands, Life hath snares! LONGFELLOw-Maidenhood. St. 9. Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, Life is checkered shade and sunshine. LONGFELLOw-Hiawatha. Pt. X. Hiawatha's Wooing. L. 265. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!— LONGFELLOW — A Psalm of Life. St. 1.
This life of ours is a wild æolian harp of many a joyous strain, But under them all there runs a loud perpetual wail, as of souls in pain.— LONGFELLOW — Christus. The Golden Legend. Pt. IV. St. 2.
Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought!— LONGFELLOW — The Village Blacksmith. St. 8.
Truly there is a tide in the affairs of men; but there is no gulf-stream setting forever in one direction.— LOWELL — Among my Books. First
Series. New England Two Centuries Ago. Life is a mission. Every other definition of life is false, and leads all who accept it astray. Religion, science, philosophy, though still at variance upon many points, all agree in this, that every existence is an aim.— MAZZINI — Life and Writings. Ch. V.
Life hath set No landmarks before us. S. OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lytton)- Lucile. Pt. II. Canto V. St. 14. When life leaps in the veins, when it beats in the heart, When it thrills as it fills every animate part, Where lurks it? how works it? *** we scarcely detect it. OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lytton)- Lucile. Pt. II. Canto I. St. 5. A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet. U, RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (Lord Houghton)-The Men of Old. St. 7. For men to tell how human life began Is hard; for who himself beginning knew?— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 250.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st Live well; how long or short permit to heav'n.— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. XI. L. 553.
So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap. C.— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. XI. L. 535.
'Tis not the whole of life to live; Nor all of death to die.— MONTGOMERY — The Issues of Life and
Death. Life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns, And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.— MOORE — Oh! Think not My Spirits are
always as Light. I would not live alway; I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way.— WILLIAM A. MUHLENBERG — I would
not Live Alway. A mighty maze, but not without a plan.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 6.
Fix'd like a plant on his peculiar spot, To draw nutrition, propagate and rot.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. II. L. 63.
For forms of government let fools contest; Whate'er is best administer'd is best; For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. III. L. 303.
Learn to live well, or fairly make your will; You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your fill: Walk sober off, before a sprightlier age Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage.— POPE — Second Book of Horace. Ep. II. L. 322.
Life can little more supply, Then just to look about us and to die.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 3.
Like following life through creatures you dissect, You lose it in the moment you detect.— POPE — Moral Essays. Ep. I. L. 29.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. II. L. 107.
See how the World its Veterans rewards! A Youth of Frolics, an old Age of Cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end, Young without Lovers, old without a Friend; A Fop their Passion, but their Prize a Sot; Alive ridiculous, and dead forgot.— POPE — Moral Essays. Ep. II. L. 243.
She went from opera, park, assembly, play, To morning walks, and prayers three hours a day. To part her time 'twixt reading and bohea, To muse, and spill her solitary tea, Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the spoon, Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon.— POPE — Ep. to Miss Blount on Leaving Town. L. 13.
To be, contents his natural desire, He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 109.
Our days begin with trouble here, our life is but a span, And cruel death is always near, so frail a thing is man. New England Primer. 1777. So vanishes our state; so pass our days; So life but opens now, and now decays; The cradle and the tomb, alas! so nigh, To live is scarce distinguish'd from to die.— PRIOR — Solomon on the Vanity of the World. Bk. III. L. 527.
Who breathes must suffer; and who thinks, must mourn ; And he alone is bless'd who ne'er was born. S.— PRIOR — Solomon on the Vanity of the World. Bk. III. L. 240.
Half my life is full of sorrow, Half of joy, still fresh and new; One of these lives is a fancy, But the other one is true.— ADELAIDE A. PROCTER — Dream-Life.
This life is but the passage of a day, This life is but a pang and all is over; But in the life to come which fades not away Every love shall abide and every lover.— CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI — Saints and
Angels. Life's but a span, or a tale, or a word, That in a trice, or suddaine, is rehearsèd. The Roxburghe Ballads. A Friend's Advice. Pt. II. Edited by Wm. Chappell. Say, what is life? 'Tis to be born, A helpless Babe, to greet the light With a sharp wail, as if the morn Foretold a cloudy noon and night; To weep, to sleep, and weep again, With sunny smiles between; and then? J. G. SAXE The Story of Life. I've lived and loved.— SCHILLER — Wallenstein. Pt. I. (Piccolomini.) Song in Act II. Sc. 6.
Coleridge's trans. O'er Ocean, with a thousand masts, sails forth the stripling bold- One boat, hard rescued from the deep, draws into port the old!— SCHILLER — Votive Tablets. Expectation
and Fulfilment. Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.— SCOTT — Old Mortality. Ch. XXXIV.
C. Head of Chapter. And a man's life's no more than to say "One."— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 74.
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.— Shakespeare — As You Like It. Act II. Sc. 7. L. 26.
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.— Shakespeare — As You Like It. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 15.
Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys; renown, and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 96.
Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.— Shakespeare — Othello. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 128.
I bear a charmed life.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act V. Sc. 8. L. 12.
I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. Julius Cæsar. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 93. It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.— Shakespeare — Othello. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 309.
Let life be short; else shame will be too long.— Shakespeare — Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 5. L. 23.
Life is a shuttle.— Shakespeare — Merry Wives of Windsor. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 20.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.— Shakespeare — King John. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 108.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. 0. Julius Cæsar. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 93. O excellent! I love long life better than figs.— Shakespeare — Antony and Cleopatra. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 32.
O gentlemen, the time of life is short! To spend that shortness basely were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.— Shakespeare — Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 2. L.82
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act V. Sc. 5. L. 23.
Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep. S. Measure for Measure. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 6. So weary with disasters tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend, or be rid on't.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act III. Sc. I. L. 113.
That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 7. L. 4.
The sands are number'd that make up my life; Here must I stay, and here my life must end.— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. III. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 25.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.— Shakespeare — All's Well That Ends Well. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 80.
This day I breathed first: time is come round, And where I did begin there shall I end; My life is run his compass. x. Julius Cæsar. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 23. Thy life's a miracle.— Shakespeare — King Lear. Act IV. Sc. 6. L. 55.
When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools.— Shakespeare — King Lear. Act IV. Sc. 6. L. 186.
Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 66.
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity.— SHELLEY — Adonais. St. 52.
We have two lives; The soul of man is like the rolling world, One half in day, the other dipt in night; The one has music and the flying cloud, The other, silence and the wakeful stars.— ALEX. SMITH — Horton. L. 76.
Yes, this is life; and everywhere we meet, Not victor crowns, but wailings of defeat.— ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH — Sonnet.
The Unattained. "Life is not lost," said she, "for which is bought Endlesse renowne."— SPENSER — Faeric Queene. Bk. III. Canto XI. St. 19.
Man is an organ of life, and God alone is life.— SWEDENBORG — True Christian Religion.
Par. 504. What ought to be more dear to a man than his life to eternity?— SWEDENBORG — Arcana. Par. 794.
May you live all the days of your life.— SWIFT — Polite Conversation.
Dialogue II. So his life has flowed From its mysterious urn a sacred stream, In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure Alone are mirrored; which, though shapes of ill May hover round its surface, glides in light, And takes no shadow from them.— THOMAS NOON TALFOURD — Ion. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 138.
For life lives only in success.— BAYARD TAYLOR — Amran's Wooing. St. 5.
Our life is scarce the twinkle of a star In God's eternal day.— BAYARD TAYLOR — Autumnal Vespers.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees.— TENNYSON — Ulysses. L. 6.
Life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom, To shape and use.— TENNYSON — In Memoriam. Pt. CXVIII. St. 5.
The white flower of a blameless life.— TENNYSON — Dedication to Idylls of the
King. My life is like a stroll upon the beach,— THOREAU — A Week on the Concord and
Merrimack Rivers. The tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said by ancient sages, That love of life increased with years So much, that in our latter stages, When pain grows sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears.— HESTER L. THRALE — Three Warnings.
We live not in our moments or our years: The present we fling from us like the rind Of some sweet future, which we after find Bitter to taste.— RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH — To —
Life let us cherish, while yet the taper glows, And the fresh flow'ret pluck ere it close; Why are we fond of toil and care? Why choose the rankling thorn to wear?— J. M. USTERI — Life let us Cherish.
Our life contains a thousand springs, And dies if one be gone. Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long. S.— WATTS — Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Bk. II. Hymn XIX.
Our lives are albums written through With good or ill, with false or true; And as the blessed angeis turn The pages of our years, God grant they read the good with smiles, And blot the ill with tears!— WHITTIER — Written in a Lady's Album.
Ah! somehow life is bigger after all Than any painted angel could we see The God that is within us!— OSCAR WILDE — Humanitad. St. 60.
My life is like the summer rose, That opens to the morning sky; But ere the shades of evening close, Is scattered on the ground-to die.— R. H. WILDE — Summer Rose.
Lament of the Captive. St. 1. We live by Admiration, Hope, and Love; And, even as these are well and wisely fixed, In dignity of being we ascend.— WORDSWORTH — The Excursion. Bk. IV.
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb: Our birth is nothing but our death begun.— YOUNG — Night Thoughts. Night V. L. 718.
For what are men who grasp at praise sublime, But bubbles on the rapid stream of time, That rise, and fall, that swell, and are no more, Born, and forgot, ten thousand in an hour?— YOUNG — Love of Fame. Satire II. L.285.
Still seems it strange, that thou shouldst live forever? Is it less strange, that thou shouldst live at all? This is a miracle; and that no more.— YOUNG — Night Thoughts. Night VII. L. 1,396.
That life is long, which answers life's great end. C.— YOUNG — Night Thoughts. Night V. L. 773.
Brevis a naturâ nobis vita data est; at memoria bene reditæ vitæ sempiterna. The life given us by nature is short; but the memory of a well-spent life is eternal.— CICERO — Philippica. XIV. 12.
Natura dedit usuram vitæ tanquam pecuniæ, nullâ præstitutâ die. Nature has lent us life at interest, like money, and has fixed no day for its payment.— CICERO — Tusculanarum Disputationum.
I. 39. Nemo parum diu vixit, qui virtutis perfectæ perfecto functus est munere. No one has lived a short life who has performed its duties with unblemished character.— CICERO — Tusculanarum Disputationum.
I. 45. Animula, vagula, blandula Hospes comesque corporis! Quæ nunc abibis in loca, Pallidula, frigida nudula Nec ut soles dabis joca? O fleeting soul of mine, my body's friend and guest, whither goest thou, pale, fearful, and pensive one? Why laugh not as of old?— HADRIAN — Ad Animam. See POPE'S
paraphrase, A Dying Christian to His Soul. Ars longa, vita brevis est. Art is long, but life is fleeting.— HIPPOCRATES — Aphorismi. I. Translated from the Greek.
Exacto contentus tempore vita cedat uti conviva satur. Content with his past life, let him take leave of life like a satiated guest.— HORACE — Satiræ. I. 1. 118.
Vitæ summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. The short space of life forbids us to lay plans requiring a long time for their accomplishment.— HORACE — Carmina. I. 4. 15.
Vivendi recte qui prorogat horam Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis; at ille Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum. He who postpones the hour of living as he ought, is like the rustic who waits for the river to pass along (before he crosses); but it glides on and will glide on forever.— HORACE — Epistolæ. I. 2. 41.
Natio comœda est. All the world's a stage.— JUVENAL — Satiræ. III. 100.
Festinat enim decurrere velox Flosculus angustæ miseræque brevissima vitæ Portio; dum bibimus dum serta unguenta puellas Poscimus obrepit non intellecta senectus. The short bloom of our brief and narrow life flies fast away. While we are calling for flowers and wine and women, old age is upon us.— JUVENAL — Satiræ. IX. 127.
Ampliat ætatis spatium sibi vir bonus: hoc est vivere bis, vitâ posse priore frui. A good man doubles the length of his existence; to have lived so as to look back with pleasure on our past existence is to live twice.— MARTIAL — Epigrammata. X. 23. 7.
Non est, crede mihi sapientis dicere "vivam." Sera nimis vita est crastina, vive hodie. It is not, believe me, the act of a wise man to say, "I will live." To-morrow's life is too late; live to-day.— MARTIAL — Epigrammata. I. 16. 11.
Non est vivere, sed valere vita. Life is not mere living, but the enjoyment of health.— MARTIAL — Epigrammata. VI. 70. 15.
Id quoque, quod vivam, munus habere dei. This also, that I live, I consider a gift of God.— OVID — Tristium. I. 1. 20.
Natura vero nihil hominibus brevitate vitæ præstitit melius. Nature has given to man nothing of more value than shortness of life. 0. PLINY the Elder-Historia Naturalis. VII. 5. 1. 3. Ignaviâ nemo immortalis factus: neque quisquam parens liberis, uti æterni forent, optavit; magis, uti boni honestique vitam exigerent. No one has become immortal by sloth; nor has any parent prayed that his children should live forever; but rather that they should lead an honorable and upright life.— SALLUST — Jugurtha. LXXXV.
Vita ipsa quâ fruimur brevis est. The very life which we enjoy is short.— SALLUST — Catilina. I.
Ante senectutem curavi ut bene viverem, in senectute (curo) ut bene moriar; bene autem mori est libenter mori. Before old age I took care to live well; in old age I take care to die well; but to die well is to die willingly.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. LXI.
Atqui vivere, militare est. But life is a warfare.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. XCVI.
Exigua pars est vitæ quam nos vivimus. The part of life which we really live is short.— SENECA — De Brevitate Vitæ. II.
Molestum est, semper vitam inchoare; male vivunt qui semper vivere incipiunt. It is a tedious thing to be always beginning life; they live badly who always begin to live.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. XXIII.
Non domus hoc corpus sed hospitium et quidem breve. This body is not a home, but an inn; and that only for a short time.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. CXX.
Non vivere bonum est, sed bene vivere. To live is not a blessing, but to live well.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. LXX.
Prima quæ vitam dedit hora, carpit. The hour which gives us life begins to take it away.— SENECA — Hercules Furens. VIII. 74.
Propera vivere et singulos dies singulas vitas puta. Make haste to live, and consider each day a life.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. CI.
Rebus parvis alta præstatur quies. In humble life there is great repose.— SENECA — Hercules Furens. CCCCLXIX.
Si ad naturam vivas, nunquam eris pauper; si ad opinionem, numquam dives. If you live according to nature, you never will be poor; if according to the world's caprice, you will never be rich.— SENECA — Epistolæ Ad Lucilium. XVI.
Vita, si scias uti, longa est. Life, if thou knowest how to use it, is long enough.— SENECA — De Brevitate Vitæ. II.
vita, misero longa! felici brevis! O life! long to the wretched, short to the happy.— SYRUS — Maxims.
Chaque instant de la vie est un pas vers la mort. Every moment of life is a step toward the grave.— CRÉBILLON — Tite et Bérénice. I. 5.
Condition de l'homme, inconstance, ennui, inquietude. The state of man is inconstancy, ennui, anxiety.— PASCAL — Pensées. Art. VI. 46.
Dieu est le poète, les hommes ne sont que les acteurs. Ces grandes pièces qui se jouent sur la terre ont été composées dans le ciel. God is the author, men are only the players. These grand pieces which are played upon earth have been composed in heaven.— BALZAC — Socrate Chrétien.
J'ai vécu. I have survived. Said by SIÈYES after the Reign of Terror, when asked what he had done. La plupart des hommes emploient la première partie de leur vie à rendre l'autre misérable. Most men employ the first part of life to make the other part miserable.— LA BRUYÈRE — Les Caractères. XI.
Ma vie est un combat. My life is a struggle.— VOLTAIRE — Le Fanatisme. II. 4.
Das Spiel des Lebens sieht sich heiter an, Wenn man den sichern Schatz im Herzen trägt. The game of life looks cheerful when one carries a treasure safe in his heart.— SCHILLER — Piccolomini. III. 4. 50,
Der Mensch hat hier dritthalb Minuten, eine zu lächeln-eine zu seufzen-und eine halbe zu lieben: denn mitten in dieser Minute stirbt er. Man has here two and a half minutes-one to smile, one to sigh, and a half to love: for in the midst of this minute he dies.— JEAN PAUL RICHTER — Hesperus. IV.
Des Lebens Mai blüht einmal und nicht wieder. The May of life blooms once and never again.— SCHILLER — Resignation. St. 2.
Die Parzen und Furien ziehen auch mit verbundnen Händen um das Leben, wie die Grazien und die Sirenen. The Fates and Furies, as well as the Graces and Sirens, glide with linked hands over life.— JEAN PAUL RICHTER- — Titan. Zykel 140.
Die Rose blüht nicht ohne Dornen. Ja: wenn nur aber nicht die Dornen die Rose überlebten. The rose does not bloom without thorns. True: but would that the thorns did not outlive the rose.— JEAN PAUL RICHTER — Titan.
Zykel 105. Die uns das Leben gaben, herrliche Gefühle Erstarren in dem irdischen Gewühle. The fine emotions whence our lives we mold Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold.— GOETHE — Faust. I. 1. 286.
Ein unnütz Leben ist ein früher Tod. A useless life is an early death.— GOETHE — Iphigenia auf Tauris. I.
2. 63. Grau, theurer Freund, ist alle Theorie Und grün des Lebens goldner Baum. My worthy friend, gray are all theories And green alone Life's golden tree.— GOETHE — Faust. I. 4. 515.
Im Ganzen-haltet euch an Worte. On words let your attention center.— GOETHE — Faust. I. 4. 467.
Jeder Mensch hat eine Regen-Ecke seines Lebens aus der ihm das schlimme Wetter nachzieht. Every man has a rainy corner of his life out of which foul weather proceeds and follows after him.— S. JEAN PAUL RICHTER — Titan.
Zykel 123. Nicht der Tummelplatz des Lebens- sein Gehalt bestimmt seinen Werth. Tis not the mere stage of life but the part we play thereon that gives the value.— SCHILLER — Fiesco. III. 2.
Nicht seine Freudenseite kehrte dir Das Leben zu. Life did not present its sunny side to thee.— SCHILLER — Marie Stuart. II. 3. 136.
Nur Thaten geben dem Leben Stärke, nur Mass ihm Reiz. Only deeds give strength to life, only moderation gives it charm.— JEAN PAUL RICHTER — Titan. Zykel 145.
O Gott, das Leben ist doch schön! O God, how beautiful is life!— SCHILLER — Don Carlos. IV. 21. 233.
Sein Spruch war: leben und leben lassen. His saying was: live and let live.— SCHILLER — Wallenstein's Lager. VI.
106. 110. Wir, wir leben! Unser sind die Stunden Und der Lebende hat Recht. We, we live! ours are the hours, and the living have their claims.— SCHILLER — An die Freude. St. 1.
Il torre altrui la vita E facoltà comune Al più vil della terra; il darla è solo De' Numi, e de' Regnanti. To take away life is a power which the vilest of the earth have in common; to give it belongs to gods and kings alone.— METASTASIO- — La Clemenza di Tito.
III. 7. Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, Che la diritta via era smarrita. In the midway of this our mortal life, I found me in a gloomy wood, astray, Gone from the path direct.— DANTE- — Inferno. I.
Questo misero modo Tengon l' anime triste di coloro Che visser senza infamia e senza lodo. This sorrow weighs upon the melancholy souls of those who lived without infamy or praise.— DANTE — Inferno. III. 36.
Spesso è da forte, Più che il morire, il vivere. Ofttimes the test of courage becomes rather to live than to die.— ALFIERI — Oreste. IV. 2.
Bien predica quien bien vive. He who lives well is the best preacher.— CERVANTES — Don Quixote. VI. 19.