| Quotes |
Topic |
| Proverbs | Let him who has granted a favour speak not of it, let him who has received one, proclaim it. |
| Rainbows | What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven? |
| Remorse | High minds, of native pride and force, Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse, Fear, for their scourge, means villains have, Thou art the torturer of the brave! |
| Repentance | But with the morning cool repentance came. |
| Results | Contentious fierce, Ardent, and dire, spring from no petty cause. |
| Revenge | 'Tis an old tale, and often told, But did my fate and wish agree, Ne'er had been read, in story old, Of maiden true betray'd for gold, That loved, or was avenged, like me! |
| Revenge | Vengeance to God alone belongs, But, when I think of all my wrongs My blood is liquid flame! |
| Royalty | For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. |
| Rumor | I cannot tell how the truth may be, I say the tale as 'twas said to me. |
| Scotland | O Caledonia! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand! |
| Ships | And let our barks across the pathless flood Hold different courses. |
| Smiles | With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. |
| Story Telling | I cannot tell how the truth may be, I say the tale as 'twas said to me. |
| Strength | Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line. |
| Summer | The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy. |
| Sympathy | It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind In body and in soul can bind. |
| Twilight | Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. |
| Work | Hard toil can roughen form and face, And want call quench the eye's bright grace. |
| Zeal | We do that in our zeal our calmer moment would be afraid to answer. |
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