Quotes about manner, page 8
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Landlord's Tale; The Rhyme of Sir Christopher
It was Sir Christopher Gardiner,
Knight of the Holy Sepulchre,
From Merry England over the sea,
Who stepped upon this continent
As if his august presence lent
A glory to the colony.
You should have seen him in the street
Of the little Boston of Winthrop's time,
His rapier dangling at his feet
Doublet and hose and boots complete,
Prince Rupert hat with ostrich plume,
Gloves that exhaled a faint perfume,
Luxuriant curls and air sublime,
And superior manners now obsolete!
He had a way of saying things
That made one think of courts and kings,
And lords and ladies of high degree;
So that not having been at court
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ch 01 Manner Of Kings Story 16
One of my friends complained of the unpropitious times, telling me that he had a slender income, a large family, without strength to bear the load of poverty and had often entertained the idea to emigrate to another country so that no matter how he made a living no one might become aware of his good or ill luck.
Many a man slept hungry and no one knew who he was.
Many a man was at the point of death and no one wept for him.
He was also apprehensive of the malevolence of enemies who would laugh behind his back and would attribute the struggle he underwent for the benefit of his family to his want of manly independence and that they will say:
"Behold that dishonourable fellow who will never
See the face of prosperity,
Will choose bodily comfort for himself,
Abandoning his wife and children to misery."
He also told me that as I knew he possessed some knowledge of arithmetic, I might, through my influence, get him appointed to a post which would become the means of putting his mind at ease and place him under obligations to me, which he could not requite by gratitude during the rest of his life. I replied: "Dear friend! Employment by a padshah consists of two parts, namely, the hope for bread and the danger of life, but it is against the opinion of intelligent men to incur this danger for that hope."
No one comes to the house of a dervish
To levy a tax on land and garden.
Either consent to bear thy anxiety or grief
Or carry thy beloved children to the crows.
He replied: "Thou hast not uttered these words in conformity with my case nor answered my question. Hast thou not heard the saying? 'Whoever commits treachery let his hand tremble at the account'."
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Killing Machine
I never give no answers, I never tell no lies
I never walk a straight line so I never get surprised
I dont ask no favors so I wont get abused
I learned to win when I was young
So Im never ever gonna lose
They pay me the money and Ill do the job
I got a contract on you
I got a contract, on you
I never ask no questions, I never speak my mind
I always found that silence helps to keep me and my kind alive
I take care of business, it takes care of me
I look after myself and do it well
cause somebodys always looking for me
They pay me the money and Ill do the job
I got a contract on you
I got a contract on you
What manner of man am i?
A gun, lump sum and then I move on
What manner of man are you?
Stab a friends back to jump a queue
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song performed by Judas Priest
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The Carpenter
He was just a carpenter by trade.
He learned from his father at a very early age.
There was something special in the man,
there was much more to his life
than just working with his hands
and He'd say There's no home I could design that would match the one you'd find, when you leave this world behind, if you only took the time.
Chorus:
Love your neighbour like your brother
treat your brother like a friend
always turn the other cheek
help the weary and the weak
make the time for young and old
and as your life unfolds
each kindness that you've shown
will be the nails and hammers
as you build your final ladder
in the manner of the carpenter of old
You could feel compassion in his eyes
only fools that hurt him did not realize
That he was speaking to us all
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song performed by Randy Travis
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The Borough. Letter XIV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Life Of Blaney
OBSERVE that tall pale Veteran! what a look
Of shame and guilt!--who cannot read that book?
Misery and mirth are blended in his face,
Much innate vileness and some outward grace;
There wishes strong and stronger griefs are seen,
Looks ever changed, and never one serene:
Show not that manner, and these features all,
The serpent's cunning, and the sinner's fall?
Hark to that laughter!--'tis the way he takes
To force applause for each vile jest he makes;
Such is yon man, by partial favour sent
To these calm seats to ponder and repent.
Blaney, a wealthy heir at twenty-one,
At twenty-five was ruin'd and undone,
These years with grievous crimes we need not load,
He found his ruin in the common road! -
Gamed without skill, without inquiry bought,
Lent without love, and borrow'd without thought.
But, gay and handsome, he had soon the dower
Of a kind wealthy widow in his power:
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poem by George Crabbe
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The Teacher Of Wisdom
From his childhood he had been as one filled with the perfect
knowledge of God, and even while he was yet but a lad many of the
saints, as well as certain holy women who dwelt in the free city of
his birth, had been stirred to much wonder by the grave wisdom of
his answers.
And when his parents had given him the robe and the ring of manhood
he kissed them, and left them and went out into the world, that he
might speak to the world about God. For there were at that time
many in the world who either knew not God at all, or had but an
incomplete knowledge of Him, or worshipped the false gods who dwell
in groves and have no care of their worshippers.
And he set his face to the sun and journeyed, walking without
sandals, as he had seen the saints walk, and carrying at his girdle
a leathern wallet and a little water-bottle of burnt clay.
And as he walked along the highway he was full of the joy that
comes from the perfect knowledge of God, and he sang praises unto
God without ceasing; and after a time he reached a strange land in
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poem by Oscar Wilde
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The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia
WE had a sprightly nymph--in every town
Are some such sprights, who wander up and down;
She had her useful arts, and could contrive,
In Time's despite, to stay at twenty-five; -
'Here will I rest; move on, thou lying year,
This is mine age, and I will rest me here.'
Arch was her look, and she had pleasant ways
Your good opinion of her heart to raise;
Her speech was lively, and with ease express'd,
And well she judged the tempers she address'd:
If some soft stripling had her keenness felt,
She knew the way to make his anger melt;
Wit was allow'd her, though but few could bring
Direct example of a witty thing;
'Twas that gay, pleasant, smart, engaging speech,
Her beaux admired, and just within their reach;
Not indiscreet, perhaps, but yet more free
Than prudish nymphs allow their wit to be.
Novels and plays, with poems old and new,
Were all the books our nymph attended to;
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poem by George Crabbe
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The Life And Death Of Tom Thumb
In Arthur's court Tom Thumb did live,
A man of mickle might ;
The best of all the table round,
And eke a doughty knight.
His stature but an inch in height,
Or quarter of a span :
Then think you not this little knight
Was proved a valiant man ?
His father was a ploughman plain,
His mother milk'd the cow,
Yet how that they might have a son
They knew not what to do :
Until such time this good old man
To learned Merlin goes,
And there to him his deep desires
In secret manner shows.
How in his heart he wish'd to have
A child, in time to come,
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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Book V: Ethandune, the First Stroke
King Guthrum was a dread king,
Like death out of the north;
Shrines without name or number
He rent and rolled as lumber,
From Chester to the Humber
He drove his foemen forth.
The Roman villas heard him
In the valley of the Thames,
Come over the hills roaring
Above their roofs, and pouring
On spire and stair and flooring
Brimstone and pitch and flames.
Sheer o'er the great chalk uplands
And the hill of the Horse went he,
Till high on Hampshire beacons
He saw the southern sea.
High on the heights of Wessex
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poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Ballad of the White Horse (1911)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Patriots Dream
The songs of the wars are as old as the hills
They cling like the rust on the cold steel that kills
They tell of the boys who went down to the tracks
In a patriotic manner with the cold steel on their backs
The patriots dream is as old as the sky
It lives in the lust of a cold callous lie
Lets drink to the men who got caught by the chill
Of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills
The train pulled away on that glorious night
The drummer got drunk and the bugler got tight
While the boys in the back sang a song of good cheer
While riding off to glory in the spring of their years
The patriots dream still lives on today
It makes mothers weep and it makes lovers pray
Lets drink to the men who got caught by the chill
Of the patriotic fever and the cold steel that kills
Well there was a sad, sad lady
Weeping all night long
She received a sad, sad message
From a voice on the telephone
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song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
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