Essence of Wisdom, Distilled from the Flowers of Ancient and Modern Literature, by A. Walker
General Books LLC, 2013 - 54 Seiten
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1873 edition. Excerpt: ...dull thoughts to count, count every day thy last. Quarles. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. Shakespeare. Life! what is life? A shadow! Its date is but the immediate breath we draw; Nor have we surety for a second gale; Ten thousand accidents in ambush lie, A frail and fickle tenement it is; Which, like the brittle glass that measures time, Is often broke, ere half its sands are run. Jones. Our life a lamp that for a time burns bright; Our life a span when it is at the best; Our life assured of neither day nor night: Our life a smoke and unassured rest; Our life, our state, our stay, and vital breath, Subject unto the sudden call of death. Bowemcm. It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere. A lily of a day is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be. Ben Jonson. LOVE. Love is the great instrument of nature, the bond and cement of society, the spirit and spring of the universe. Love is such an affection as cannot so properly be said to be in the soul, as the soul to be in that; it is the whole man wrapt up into one desire. Dr. South. A regular well-governed affection does not scorch; but, like the lamp of life, warms the breast with a gentle and refreshing heat. Shelley. Too light winning Makes the prize light. Shakespeare. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. Shakespeare. Loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, ..
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