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George Bernard Shaw

Higgins: Besides, you shouldn't cut your old friends now that you have risen in the world. That's what we call snobbery.

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Byron

Canto the Fourth

I
Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning;
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far,
Till our own weakness shows us what we are.

II
But Time, which brings all beings to their level,
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last
Man, -- and, as we would hope, -- perhaps the devil,
That neither of their intellects are vast:
While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel,
We know not this -- the blood flows on too fast;
But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
We ponder deeply on each past emotion.

[...] Read more

poem by from Don Juan (1824)Report problemRelated quotes
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Good Morning

Good morning! – a cry
lingering at midnight
"Good morning"! whispers
the morning-glory scented air.

How are you?
A rainbow has risen again
warming my dream-exhaling
feet

My eyes learn
how to sleep
and white drops
– like a belated tear –
clarify me
and shatter against my eyelids.

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The Hammam Name

Winsome Torment rose from slumber, rubbed his eyes, and went his way
Down the street towards the Hammam. Goodness gracious! people say,
What a handsome countenance! The sun has risen twice to-day!
And as for the Undressing Room it quivered in dismay.
With the glory of his presence see the window panes perspire,
And the water in the basin boils and bubbles with desire.

Now his lovely cap is treated like a lover: off it goes!
Next his belt the boy unbuckles; down it falls, and at his toes
All the growing heap of garments buds and blossoms like a rose.
Last of all his shirt came flying. Ah, I tremble to disclose
How the shell came off the almond, how the lily showed its face,
How I saw a silver mirror taken flashing from its case.

He was gazed upon so hotly that his body grew too hot,
So the bathman seized the adorers and expelled them on the spot;
Then the desperate shampooer his propriety forgot,
Stumbled when he brought the pattens, fumbled when he tied a knot,
And remarked when musky towels had obscured his idol's hips,
See Love's Plenilune, Mashallah, in a partial eclipse!

[...] Read more

poem by from The Collected Poems of James Elroy Flecker (1916)Report problemRelated quotes
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God is dead, but fifty thousand social workers have risen to take his place.

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Samuel Johnson

A man is very apt to complain of the ingratitude of those who have risen far above him.

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... I pledge allegiance to the Christian flag and to the Savior, for whose Kingdom it stands, one Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again, with life and liberty for all who believe.

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Young leading cadres have risen up by helicopter. They should really rise step by step.

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Mihai Eminescu

Why Don't You Come?

See the swallows quit the eaves
And fall the yellow walnut leaves,
The vines with autumn frost are numb,
Why don't you come, why don't you come?

Oh, come into my arms' embrace
That I may gaze upon your face,
And lay my head in grateful rest
Against your breast, against your breast!

Do you remember when we strayed
The meadows and the secret glade,
I kissed you midst flowering thyme
How many a time, how many a time?

Some women on the earth there are
Whose eyes shine as the evening star,
But be their charm no matter what,
Like you they're not, like you they're not!

[...] Read more

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Matthew Arnold

Sohrab and Rustum

And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,
And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream.
But all the Tartar camp along the stream
Was hush'd, and still the men were plunged in sleep;
Sohrab alone, he slept not; all night long
He had lain wakeful, tossing on his bed;
But when the grey dawn stole into his tent,
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword,
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent,
And went abroad into the cold wet fog,
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's tent.

Through the black Tartar tents he pass'd, which stood
Clustering like bee-hives on the low flat strand
Of Oxus, where the summer-floods o'erflow
When the sun melts the snows in high Pamere
Through the black tents he pass'd, o'er that low strand,
And to a hillock came, a little back
From the stream's brink--the spot where first a boat,
Crossing the stream in summer, scrapes the land.

[...] Read more

poem by (1853)Report problemRelated quotes
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