| Author |
Quotes |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | I held it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping stones Or their dead selves to higher things. |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | The great world's altar stairs That slope through darkness up to God. |
| Michael Eyquen de Montaigne | Arts and sciences are not cast in a mould, but are found and perfected by degrees, by often handling and polishing, as bears leisurely lick their clubs into shape. |
| R C Allen | We grow because we struggle, we learn and overcome. |
| Robert Browning | What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets; May learn a thousand things, not twice the same. |
| Rosilind Russell | When something happens to you, you either let it defeat you, or you defeat it. |
| Samuel Taylor Coleridge | Treading beneath their feet all visible things, As steps that upwards to their Father's throne Lead gradual. |
| Sir Walter Scott | Jock, when he hae naething else to do, ye may be aye sticking in a tree; it will be growing, Jock, when ye're sleeping. |
| Thomas Huxley | Sit down before fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abyss nature leads, or you shall learn nothing. |
| George MacDonald | And so all growth that is not towards God Is growing to decay. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Nor deem the irrevocable Past, As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. |
| William Shakespeare | Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe, Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow. |
| William Shakespeare | 'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester, 'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.' And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste. |
| William Shakespeare | O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth, The prince my brother hath outgrown me far. |
| Previous - 1 - Page 2 Next |