The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

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.

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Pride: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

Who dares To say that he alone has found the truth?— LONGFELLOW — Christus. Pt. III. John Endicott. Act II. Sc. 3.
He will steal himself into a man's favour and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after.— Shakespeare — All's Well That Ends Well. Act III. Sc. 6. L. 97.
How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence They have their nourishment?— Shakespeare — Pericles. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 55.
It is not so with Him that all things knows As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows: But most it is presumption in us when The help of heaven we count the act of men.— Shakespeare — All's Well That Ends Well. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 152.
As proud as Lucifer.— BAILEY — Festus. Sc. A Country Town.
Ay, do despise me, I'm the prouder for it; I like to be despised.— BICKERSTAFF — The Hypocrite. Act V. Sc. 1.
They are proud in humility, proud in that they are not proud. S.— BURTON — Anatomy of Melancholy. Pt. I. Sec. II. Memb. 3.
Subsec. XIV. Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault) Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought.— WENTWORTH DILLON — Essay on Translated Verse. L. 161. L. 161.
Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain.— DRYDEN — Alexander's Feast. L. 66.
Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of humankind pass by.— GOLDSMITH — The Traveller. L. 327.
Oh! Why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast flying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave Man passes from life to his rest in the grave.— WM. KNOX — Oh! Why Should the Spirit
of Mortal be Proud? And, but herself, admits no parallel.— MASSINGER — Duke of Milan. Act IV. Sc. 3.
In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies; rush into the skies . All quit their sphere and rush into the skies. bless'd abodes, Pride still is aiming at the bless'd abodes, would be . Ep. I. L. 124 Men would be angels, angels would be gods. gods. .— POPE — Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 124.
Thus unlamented pass the proud away, of a day; The gaze of fools and pageant of a day ne'er So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to learn'd to glow For others' good, or melt at others' woe.— POPE — Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. L. 4
. What the weak head with strongest bias rules, of fools. Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.— POPE — Essay on Criticism. L. 203.
C. When Adam dalfe and Eve spane To spire of thou may spede, ? Whare was then the pride of man, That now merres his meed— RICHARD ROLLE DE HAMPOLE — Early English Text Society Reprints. No.
26. P. 79. Is this that haughty, gallant, gay Lothario?— NICHOLAS ROWE — The Fair Penitent. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 37.
In general, pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes.— RUSKIN — True and Beautiful. Morals
and Religion. Conception of God. P. 426. But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As make the angels weep. Sc.— Shakespeare — Measure for Measure. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 117.
He is so plaguy proud that the death tokens of it Cry "No recovery."— Shakespeare — Troilus and Cressida. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 187.
, his own He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own itself but in chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in praise. the deed, devours the deed in the— Shakespeare — Troilus and Cressida. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 164.
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.— Shakespeare — Troilus and Cressida. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 169.
I have ventur'd, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 358.
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! Sc. 1. L.— Shakespeare — Twelfth Night. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 138.
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