Samuel Butler Quotes

Cheered up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

Cheered up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

So 'ere the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant capricious sects,
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So 'ere the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant capricious sects,
That maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after every swarm its own.

As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honour's lodged,
As wise philosophers read more

As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honour's lodged,
As wise philosophers have judged,
Because a kick in that place more
Hurts honour than deep wounds before.

For zeal's a dreadful termagant,
That teaches saints to tear and cant.

For zeal's a dreadful termagant,
That teaches saints to tear and cant.

Her voice, the music of the spheres,
So loud, it deafens mortals' ears;
As wise philosophers have read more

Her voice, the music of the spheres,
So loud, it deafens mortals' ears;
As wise philosophers have thought,
And that's the cause we hear it not.

Is not the winding up witnesses,
And nicking, more than half the bus'ness?
For witnesses, like watches, read more

Is not the winding up witnesses,
And nicking, more than half the bus'ness?
For witnesses, like watches, go
Just as they're set, too fast or slow;
And where in Conscience they're strait-lac'd,
'Tis ten to one that side is cast.

The extremes of glory and of shame, Like east and west, become the same No Indian prince has to his read more

The extremes of glory and of shame, Like east and west, become the same No Indian prince has to his palace - More followers than a thief to the gallows

Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher,
And had read ev'ry text and gloss over
Whate'er the crabbed'st read more

Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher,
And had read ev'ry text and gloss over
Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath,
He understood b' implicit faith.

The moon pull'd off her veil of light,
That hides her face by day from sight
(Mysterious read more

The moon pull'd off her veil of light,
That hides her face by day from sight
(Mysterious veil, of brightness made,)
That's both her lustre and her shade),
And in the lantern of the night,
With shining horns hung out her light.

I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.

I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.