Quotes about spite, page 3
Spiteface
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Smashing Pumpkins - Spiteface
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Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck..You..Up..Muck
In a dream I wander on
To the bell tower.. writing songs
So I crumple this page, and rip it up
Never piece my broken heart to you
Muck..You..Up..Muck
Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck
Your words, will spite your face
Your words, will spite your face
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song performed by Smashing Pumpkins
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Have Finally Come To Realize
I have finally come to realise
Child dont do what I have done
Cut my nose to spite my face
Made my own odds 10,000 to one
I saw the empire slowly fade away
Tried to grasp it with my hand
Then I saw that it was not up to me
Im just one tiny, tiny grain of sand
Oh, sweet release, oh how you soothe me
When I let go, I love how you use me
I have finally come to realise
Its something theyre doing that theyre doing that we find
A certain way that we can live our lives
And Im takin some peace of mind
Oh, sweet release, oh how you soothe me
And when I let go, and when I let go
I love how you use me
I have finally come to realise
Its something theyre doing that theyre doing that we find
A certain way that we can live our lives
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song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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All Over Again
Written by christine mcvie and eddy quintela.
Well its time to say goodnight
And finally turn out the light
How do I say in some simple way
How much you have been on my mind
But I have to let you go
Its time to move on, dont you know
But you can rely on a love that wont die
For havent I told you so
So lets stop before its too late
And leave it all up to the fates
Cause in spite of the heartaches
And troubles in love
Id do it all over
Do it all over again
Each of us and everyone
Carries a burden of love
But as far as I go in my heart I know
Its you Ill be thinking of
So what is there left to say
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song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Two Swans (A Fairy Tale)
I
Immortal Imogen, crown'd queen above
The lilies of thy sex, vouchsafe to hear
A fairy dream in honor of true love—
True above ills, and frailty, and all fear,—
Perchance a shadow of his own career
Whose youth was darkly prison'd and long-twined
By serpent-sorrow, till white Love drew near,
And sweetly sang him free, and round his mind
A bright horizon threw, wherein no grief may wind.
II
I saw a tower builded on a lake,
Mock'd by its inverse shadow, dark and deep—
That seem'd a still intenser night to make,
Wherein the quiet waters sank to sleep,—
And, whatso'er was prison'd in that keep,
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poem by Thomas Hood
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Caliban upon Setebos or, Natural Theology in the Island
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself."
(David, Psalms 50.21)
['Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best,
Flat on his belly in the pit's much mire,
With elbows wide, fists clenched to prop his chin.
And, while he kicks both feet in the cool slush,
And feels about his spine small eft-things course,
Run in and out each arm, and make him laugh:
And while above his head a pompion-plant,
Coating the cave-top as a brow its eye,
Creeps down to touch and tickle hair and beard,
And now a flower drops with a bee inside,
And now a fruit to snap at, catch and crunch,--
He looks out o'er yon sea which sunbeams cross
And recross till they weave a spider-web
(Meshes of fire, some great fish breaks at times)
And talks to his own self, howe'er he please,
Touching that other, whom his dam called God.
Because to talk about Him, vexes--ha,
Could He but know! and time to vex is now,
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poem by Robert Browning
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Caliban upon Setebos
Caliban upon Setebos
Or, Natural Theology in the Island
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself."
(David, Psalms 50.21)
['Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best,
Flat on his belly in the pit's much mire,
With elbows wide, fists clenched to prop his chin.
And, while he kicks both feet in the cool slush,
And feels about his spine small eft-things course,
Run in and out each arm, and make him laugh:
And while above his head a pompion-plant,
Coating the cave-top as a brow its eye,
Creeps down to touch and tickle hair and beard,
And now a flower drops with a bee inside,
And now a fruit to snap at, catch and crunch,--
He looks out o'er yon sea which sunbeams cross
And recross till they weave a spider-web
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poem by Robert Browning from Dramatis Personae (1864)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Magic Cup
THE worst of ills, with jealousy compared,
Are trifling torments ev'ry where declared.
IMAGINE, to yourself a silly fool,
To dark suspicion grown an easy tool;
No soft repose he finds, by night or day;
But rings his ear, he's wretched ev'ry way!
Continually he dreams his forehead sprouts;
The truth of reveries he never doubts.
But this I would not fully guaranty,
For he who dreams, 'tis said, asleep should be;
And those who've caught, from time to time, a peep,
Pretend to say--the jealous never sleep.
A MAN who has suspicions soon will rouse;
But buz a fly around his precious spouse,
At once he fancies cuckoldom is brought,
And nothing can eradicate the thought;
In spite of reason he must have a place,
And numbered be, among the horned race;
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poem by La Fontaine
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An Epistle To William Hogarth
Amongst the sons of men how few are known
Who dare be just to merit not their own!
Superior virtue and superior sense,
To knaves and fools, will always give offence;
Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear,
So nice is jealousy, a rival there.
Be wicked as thou wilt; do all that's base;
Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race:
Let vice and folly thy black soul divide;
Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride.
Deaf to the voice of Faith and Honour, fall
From side to side, yet be of none at all:
Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties,
Which Nature, in her bounty, good as wise,
To work our safety, and ensure her plan,
Contrived to bind and rivet man to man:
Lift against Virtue, Power's oppressive rod;
Betray thy country, and deny thy God;
And, in one general comprehensive line,
To group, which volumes scarcely could define,
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poem by Charles Churchill
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The Odyssey: Book 11
Then, when we had got down to the sea shore we drew our ship into
the water and got her mast and sails into her; we also put the sheep
on board and took our places, weeping and in great distress of mind.
Circe, that great and cunning goddess, sent us a fair wind that blew
dead aft and stayed steadily with us keeping our sails all the time
well filled; so we did whatever wanted doing to the ship's gear and
let her go as the wind and helmsman headed her. All day long her sails
were full as she held her course over the sea, but when the sun went
down and darkness was over all the earth, we got into the deep
waters of the river Oceanus, where lie the land and city of the
Cimmerians who live enshrouded in mist and darkness which the rays
of the sun never pierce neither at his rising nor as he goes down
again out of the heavens, but the poor wretches live in one long
melancholy night. When we got there we beached the ship, took the
sheep out of her, and went along by the waters of Oceanus till we came
to the place of which Circe had told us.
"Here Perimedes and Eurylochus held the victims, while I drew my
sword and dug the trench a cubit each way. I made a drink-offering
to all the dead, first with honey and milk, then with wine, and
thirdly with water, and I sprinkled white barley meal over the
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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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The Iliad: Book 23
Thus did they make their moan throughout the city, while the
Achaeans when they reached the Hellespont went back every man to his
own ship. But Achilles would not let the Myrmidons go, and spoke to
his brave comrades saying, "Myrmidons, famed horsemen and my own
trusted friends, not yet, forsooth, let us unyoke, but with horse
and chariot draw near to the body and mourn Patroclus, in due honour
to the dead. When we have had full comfort of lamentation we will
unyoke our horses and take supper all of us here."
On this they all joined in a cry of wailing and Achilles led them in
their lament. Thrice did they drive their chariots all sorrowing round
the body, and Thetis stirred within them a still deeper yearning.
The sands of the seashore and the men's armour were wet with their
weeping, so great a minister of fear was he whom they had lost.
Chief in all their mourning was the son of Peleus: he laid his
bloodstained hand on the breast of his friend. "Fare well," he
cried, "Patroclus, even in the house of Hades. I will now do all
that I erewhile promised you; I will drag Hector hither and let dogs
devour him raw; twelve noble sons of Trojans will I also slay before
your pyre to avenge you."
As he spoke he treated the body of noble Hector with contumely,
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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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