Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. ( 10 of 44 )
Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone
(A very plain read more
Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone
(A very plain brown stone will do),
That I may call my own;
And close at hand is such a one
In yonder street that fronts the sun.
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle that fits the all.
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle that fits the all.
No, my friends, I go (always other things being equal) for the
man that inherits family traditions and the read more
No, my friends, I go (always other things being equal) for the
man that inherits family traditions and the cumulative humanities
of at least four or five generations.
Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wears
Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:
Uneasy read more
Grave is the Master's look; his forehead wears
Thick rows of wrinkles, prints of worrying cares:
Uneasy lies the heads of all that rule,
His worst of all whose kingdom is a school.
Supreme he sits; before the awful frown
That binds his brows the boldest eye goes down;
Not more submissive Israel heard and saw
At Sinai's foot the Giver of the Law.
Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky:
Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die!
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Our Union is river, lake, ocean, and sky:
Man breaks not the medal, when God cuts the die!
Though darkened with sulphur, though cloven with steel,
The blue arch will brighten, the waters will heal!
Every library should try to be complete on something, if it were
only the history of pinheads.
Every library should try to be complete on something, if it were
only the history of pinheads.
Everything is twice as large, measured on a three-year-old's
three-foot scale on a thirty-year-old's six-foot scale.
Everything is twice as large, measured on a three-year-old's
three-foot scale on a thirty-year-old's six-foot scale.
And when you stick on conversation's burs,
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs.
And when you stick on conversation's burs,
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs.
Scarce one tall frigate walks the sea
Or skirts the safer shores
Of all that bore to read more
Scarce one tall frigate walks the sea
Or skirts the safer shores
Of all that bore to victory
Our stout old Commodores.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
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I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat
And the breeches and all that
Are so queer.
