Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Wither. 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 Wither Quotes And Sayings by 79 Authors including Anne Rice,Anonymous,Alfred Lord Tennyson,Alice Walker,Ben Jonson for you to enjoy and share.
Should we put out the light? And then put out the light. But once put out thy light, I cannot give it vital breath again. It needs must wither.
Kill my envy, command my tongue, trample down self. Give
Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
I wish you were with me, or I with you.-- Alice Walker
He drove out the spirits with a word
Of all wild beasts preserve me from a tyrant; and of all tame a flatterer.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit;
All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
Let his herald your end,and begone with the thundder clap.
The miser is the man who starves himself and everybody else, in order to worship wealth in its dead form, as distinct from its living form.
Death the deliverer freeth all at last.
Sovereign of beauty, like the spray she grows;Compass'd she is with thorns and canker'd bower.Yet, were she willing to be pluck'd and worn,She would be gather'd, though she grew on thorn.
Tonstant Weader fwowed up.
All is well, tho' faith and form
Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
ken whit tae dae wi' it.
Right words, sometimes they escape me; curses nay so much. Of them I am kin.
How could I, blest with thee, long nights employ; And how with the longest day enjoy!
No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from.
Alone!-that worn-out word, So idly spoken, and so coldly heard; Yet all that poets sing and grief hath known Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word ALONE!
In this spot, he is housed in evil. Reader, unbury him with a word.
You'll find my power comes from within ... and is a force to be reckoned with.
You have summoned me in my weakness. You must sustain me in your strength.
By time and toil we sever What strength and rage could never.
Fight thou with shafts of silver, and o'ercome When no force else can get the masterdom
I' a word that's let you Die
We name us and then we are lost, tamed
I choose words, more words, to cure the tameness, not the wildness
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.
The Lame goes as farre as your staggerer.
[The lame goes as far as your staggerer.]
And with these gone from his thought, he lived a long
Wertheimer was afraid of losing his unhappiness and killed himself for this and no other reason, I thought, with
Cast off everything/everyone else has known for you./Move gratefully, from these old skins./And this time, if you toughen,/decide/for whom?
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor'd, and unsung.
No longer can I bear with the ruined god, betrayed and beaten by his own magic. Calling on powers best left unsummoned, he took human beings apart - and then he put them back together again.
Though you hale my body to that place, and there set me, can you force me also to turn my mind or my eyes to those shows? I shall then be absent while present, and so shall overcome both you and them.
Sawcy, and ouer-bold, how did you dare
To Trade, and Trafficke with Macbeth,
In Riddles, and Affaires of death;
And I the Mistris of your Charmes,
The close contriuer of all harmes,
Was neuer call'd to beare my part,
Or shew the glory of our Art?
Discharge my followers; let them hence away,
From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.
You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
the son of toil.
Dweller in yon dungeon dark, Hangman of creation, mark! Who in widow weeds appears, Laden with unhonoured years, Noosing with care a bursting purse, Baited with many a deadly curse?
With my wolf's hunger
I haul my lamb's body
down like a sail
I am like
the wretched boat
and the lascivious sea
The unlimited power that lies sleeping within you, let it slumber no more.
Restored in you, to be renewed in you, to receive from you
Sleepe without supping, and wake without owing.
He [the miser] falls down and worships the god of this world, but will have neither its pomps, its vanities nor its pleasures for his trouble.
But froward Fortune and perverse, Whan high estatis she doth reverse, And maketh hem to tumble doun Of hir whele, with sodeyn tourn.
Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: For wither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
I, poor creature, worn out with scribbling for my bread and my liberty, low in spirits and weak in health, must leave others to wear the laurels which I have sown, others to eat the bread which I have earned. A common case.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
(Hadrian Blackwater while poisoned) Gill the fish ... rest is best ... time is now ... it feels so good to ...
The miser, poor fool, not only starves his body, but also his own soul.
One sometimes says: 'He killed himself because he was bored with life.' One ought rather to say: 'He killed himself because he was bored by lack of life.'
Let this expiate!
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
Strygalldwir is my name. Conjure with it and I will eat your heart and liver."
"Conjure with it? I can't even pronounce it, and my cirrhosis would give you indigestion.
Let my muse
Fail of thy former helps, and only use
Her inadulterate strength. What's done by me
Hereafter shall smell of the lamp, not thee.
Lord deliver me from myself.
The modern king has become a vermiform appendix: useless when quiet; when obtrusive, in danger of removal.
E'en Beauty mourns in her decaying bower,
That Time upon her angel brow should set
His crooked autograph, and mar the jet
Of glossy locks. Lo! how her chaplet green,
The hoar frost and the canker worm destroy.
Decay's dull film obscures those matchless eyes.
If the wise erred not, it would goe hard with fooles.
[If the wise erred not, it would go hard with fools.]
Thou from this land, I from myself am banish'd.
Throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
For you have but mistook me all this while.
I live with bread, like you; feel want,
Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus,
How can you say to me I am king?
So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!
The fallyng out of faithfull frends is the renuyng of loue.
Let the weary at length possess quiet rest.
And it be well for a knowlessman that he should not be here, for he would be taken from this place and his gaskin slit, his moules shown to the four winds, his welchet torn asunder with many hooks and his figgin placed upon a spike (...)
Long exercised in woes.
Balder the beautiful/is dead, is dead!
Who leaves the pine-tree, leaves his friend, Unnerves his strength, invites his end.
He that dare not die, dare scarce fight valiantly (475).
Hero, let hostile spirits sleep, and every gentler genius wake:
How strange or odd some'er I bear myself,
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on.
I cud feal some thing growing in me it wer like a grean sea surging in me it wer saying, LOSE IT. Saying, LET GO. Saying, THE ONLYES POWER IS NO POWER
The ruins of Canterbury Castle
Let me be to my sad self hereafter kind.
You have a ready wit. Tell me when it's ready.
A king may spille, a king may save; A king may make of lorde a knave; And of a knave a lorde also.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
Austere perseverance, hash and continuous ... rarely fails of its purpose, for its silent power grows irresistible greater with time.
For power finds its place in lack of power; Advance
KING EDWARD: But what is he whom rule and empery
Have not in life or death made miserable?
With ills unending strives the putter off.
The destructive character knows only one watchword: make room; only one activity: clearing away ...
The destructive character is young and cheerful. For destroying rejuvenates in clearing away traces of our own age ...
Take heede of an oxe before, of an horse behind, of a monke on all sides.
When true hearts lie wither'd And fond ones are flown, Oh, who would inhabit This bleak world alone?
I could live in the woods with thee in sight, Where never should human foot intrude: Or with thee find light in the darkest night, And a social crowd in solitude.
They tire of quiet, that have known the storm
I shall bere your noble fame, for ye spake a grete worde and fulfilled it worshipfully.
When the steede is stolne, shut the stable durre.
To confront night, storms, hunger, ridicule, accidents, rebuffs, as the trees and animals do."
Me imperturbe
A miser is sometimes a grand personification of fear. He has a fine horror of poverty; and he is not content to keep want from the door, or at arm's length, but he places it, by heaping wealth upon wealth, at a sublime distance!
That which has quelled me, lives with me, Accomplice in catastrophe.
Ender had come to feel a unity so strong that the word "we" came to his lips much more easily than "I
Like a fiend in a cloud, With howling woe After night I do crowd And with night will go; I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increased; For light cloth seize my brain With frantic pain.
Haftor was the Easer to the Easers. This was the most powerful man in Creation. Peder knew trouble was coming, but knew not what it was or how to deal with it.
Who hath none to still him, may weepe out his eyes.
[Who hath none to still him, may weep out his eyes.]
He who lives only unto himself withers and dies, while he who forgets himself in the service of others grows and blossoms.
Pour out wine till I become a wanderer from myself; for in selfhood and existence I have felt only fatigue.
Who pants for glory, finds but short repose; A breath revives him, or a breath o'erthrows.
Wi' basket oft shoo walks abroad To some poor lonely elf; To ivery one shoo knaws t' reight way At's poorer nor(2) herself. Shoo niverr speyks o' what shoo gives, Kind, gentle-hearted sowl; I' charity her hands find wark, Shoo's good alike to all.
He that will not have peace, God gives him warre.
[He that will not have peace, God gives him war.]
Andross, you motherfucker.
A king is a mortal god on earth, unto whom the living God hath lent his own name as a great honour; but withal told him, he should die like a man, lest he should be proud, and flatter himself that God hath with his name imparted unto him his nature also.