Samuel Rogers Quotes

Gentle to others, to himself severe.

Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.

Then never less alone than when alone.

That very law which moulds a tear And bids it trickle from its source,- That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,-not dead, but gone before,- He gathers round him.

To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.

Paris strikes the vulgar part of us infinitely the most, but to a thinking mind London is incomparably the most delightful subject for contemplation.

Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it: He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it.

When with care we have raised an imaginary treasure of happiness, we find at last that the materials of the structure are frail and perishing, and the foundation itself is laid in the sand.

It doesn't much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find next morning that it was someone else.

Women have the understanding of the heart, which is better than that of the head.

To know her was to love her.

Think nothing done while aught remains to do.

Example is a motive of very prevailing force on the actions of men.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour A thousand melodies unheard before!

Almost all men are over anxious. No sooner do they enter the world than they lose that taste for natural and simple pleasures so remarkable in early life. Every hour do they ask themselves what progress they have made in the pursuit of wealth or honor and on they go as their fathers went before them till weary and sick at heart they look back with a sigh of regret to the golden time of their childhood.

When a new book is published, read an old one.

Vast and deep the mountain shadows grew.

Every day a little life, a blank to be inscribed with gentle thoughts.

Long on the wave reflected lustres of play.

The good are better made by ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still.

I lived to write, and wrote to live.

A man who attempts to read all the new productions must do as the flea does,--skip.

By many a temple half as old as Time.

Go! you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away! There 's such a charm in melancholy I would not if I could be gay.