Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Sooth. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Sooth Quotes And Sayings by 77 Authors including John Henry Newman,Percy Bysshe Shelley,Joseph Addison,Abraham Cowley,Friedrich Schiller for you to enjoy and share.
Cease, stranger, cease those witching notes,
The art of syren choirs;
Hush the seductive voice that floats
Across the trembling wires.
Music's ethereal power was given
Not to dissolve our clay,
But draw Promethean beams from heaven
To purge the dross away.
Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure; Thou wilt never come for pity, Thou wilt come for pleasure; Pity then will cut away Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
Whilst I yet live, let me not live in vain.
Banish business, banish sorrow. To the gods belongs tomorrow.
Sorrows must die with the joys they outnumber.
The wretch condemn'd with life to part,
Still, still on hope relies;
And every pang that rends the heart
Bids expectation rise.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
My wails of sorrow
are tormenting my soul
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.
Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us.
And may the crows feast on the unjust.
Keep company with the more cheerful sort of the Godly; there is no mirth like the mirth of believers.
May I hold myself in compassion.
May I meet the suffering and ignorance of others with compassion.
Only your hearts be frolic, for the time Craves that we taste of naught but jouissance.
The wretched hasten to hear of their own miseries.
If I were dead and buried And I heard your voice, Beneath the sod My heart of dust Would still rejoice.
The righteous shall rejoice.
SOD YOU, THEN, Death said.
In durance vile 1here must I wake and weep, And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.
In vain doth valour bleed, While Avarice and Rapine share the land.
A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
Must this with farce and folly rack my
head unpunish'd ? that with sing-song,
Whine me dead?
May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy. 6 Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.
By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
[...] one louing howre
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence:
A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sowre
Hee that hath patience hath fatt thrushes for a farthing.
Yuyeh sesh. Despise your heart. Ni weh sesh. I have no heart.
Do behold the king in his glory, King Sequoia. Behold! Behold! seems all I can say ... Well may I fast, not from bread but from business, bookmaking, duty doing & other trifles ... I'm in the woods woods woods, & they are in mee-ee-ee ... I wish I were wilder & so bless Sequoia I will be.
A merry heart doeth good like medicine.
Tears such as angels weep.
Much in sorrow, oft in woe, Onward, Christians, onward go.
Oh be swift to live, make haste to be kind.
Daring greatly, divine grace.
Shout for joy, O heavens; rejoice, O earth; burst into song, O mountains! For the Lord comforts His people and will have compassion on His afflicted ones (Isa. 49:13).
How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
Affliction has a sting, out withal a wing: sorrow shall fly away.
There is that in thee, poor lad, which I feel too curing to my malady. Like cures like; and for this hunt, my malady becomes my most desired health.
O let me be undone the common way, And have the common comfort to be pity'd, And not be ruin'd in the mask of bliss, And so be envy'd, and be wretched too!
Thy sorrow will come from thine own mouth.
Of all the grief's that harass the distressed; sure the most bitter is a scornful jest.
I thank thee, king, For thy great bounty, that not only givest Me cause to wail but teachest me the way How to lament the cause.
I will indulge my sorrows, and give way to all the pangs and fury of despair.
Singing diminishes sorrow.
Tell me to sod off and off I will duly sod." "What girl could resist? Sod off." I
Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind.
Come all ye that pass by, and see if there is any sorrow like unto my sorrow.
Thou art to me a delicious torment.
Right words, sometimes they escape me; curses nay so much. Of them I am kin.
What I'm sowing today, I be reaping tomorrow
So here's some joyful bars, to replace your sorrow.
There's nothing better than an elegant cry of despair.
O Lord, Thy Word, revive my soul.
Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.
The cure for sorrow is to learn something.
So live in the light of the resurrection and renewal of this world, and of yourself, in a glorious, never-ending, joyful dance of grace.
And men my prophet wail deride!
Woe and death to all who resist my will!
Then haste we down to meet thy friends and foes;
To place thy friends in ease, the rest in woes.
For here though death doth end their misery,
I'll there begin their endless tragedy.
How evil life must be if it were indeed necessary that such imploring cries, such cries of physical and moral wretchedness, should ever and ever ascend to heaven!
But as in wailing there's nought availing, And Death unfailing will strike the blow, Then for that reason, and for a season, Let us be merry before we go.
Nature's tears are reason's merriment.
Be full of sorrow, that you may become hill of joy; weep, that you may break into laughter.
Oh, that we could but convince men and women that murmuring spirit is a greater evil than any affliction, whatever the affliction!
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.
No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st
Have some malignant power upon my life:
If so, I pray thee breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet, and shew my people their transgression, and the house of Jacob their sins.
No sheth an sary'
(No herb shall heal like blood on the steel)
For the Lord hath in no place forbidden mirth ...
There is peace and rest and comfort in sorrow
How shall polluted mortals dare
To sing Thy glory or Thy grace
Beneath Thy feet we lie afar
And see but shadows of Thy face.
Praise the sea, on shore remain.
We ought to seek daily grace.
Sorrows is more plentiful than dinners just now; I
Let heart and voice, like bells of silver, ring, the comfort that this day doth bring.
Fare thee well my nightingale, I lived but to be near you. Thow you are singing somewhere still I can no longer hear you.
O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness!
Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal;
So shall I fight, so shall I tread,
In this long war beneath the stars;
So shall a glory wreathe my head,
So shall I faint and show the scars,
Until this case, this clogging mould,
Be smithied all to kingly gold.
No care and no sorrow,
The farce is finished. I go to seek a vast perhaps.
And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as tame things.
One good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages; you may ride's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
With spur we heat an acre.
Our Lord shouts and screams;
his tears fall from heaven and spring the streams
Every thought of pity is like the balm of Gilead to our souls.
Sorrow is sorrow.
Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;
Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.
Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, suffering yet hoping all things.
Talk of heaven! ye disgrace earth.
Each new morn
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yelled out
Like syllable of dolor.
Where'er ye sojourn, and whatever names Ye are or shall be called; fairies, or sylphs, Nymphs of the wood or mountain, flood or field: Live ye in peace, and long may ye be free To follow your good minds.
Soar for your Encore!
How sweet is mortal Sovranty!" - think some: Others - "How blest the Paradise to come!" Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!
I seek refuge in Thee from every hope which would distract me.
Precious Saviour! come in spirit, and lay Thy strong, gentle grasp of love on our dear boys and girls, and keep these our lambs from the fangs of the wolf.
There's a lamentation in the flutter of your lash.
When summoned hence to thine eternal sleep, Oh, may'st thou smile while all around thee weep.
Sweet Spirit, grant us the faith to resist our resistance to Thee!
Silence is sorrow's best food.
I shall not altogether die.
Let flattery, the handmaid of the vices, be far removed .
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, Or as tie heresies that men do leave Are hated most of those they did deceive, So thou, my surfeit and my heresy, Of all be hated, but the most of me!