EN'S natures are neither black nor white, but brown.
Charles Buxton, Notes of Thought.
H, Love's but a dance, Where Time plays the fiddle! See the couples advance— Oh, Love's but a dance! A whisper, a glance— "Shall we twirl down the middle?" Oh, Love's but a dance, Where Time plays the fiddle!
Austin Dobson, Proverbs in Porcelain.
MET a man in Oregon who hadn't any teeth—not a tooth in his head—yet that man could play on the bass drum better than any man I ever met.
C. F. Browne, Artemus Ward's Lecture.
HE Duke of Rutland, at one of his levées, being at a loss for something to say to every person he was bound in etiquette to notice, remarked to Sir John Hamilton that there was a prospect of an excellent crop. "The timely rain," observed the duke, "will bring everything above ground." "God forbid, your excellency!" exclaimed the courtier. His excellency stared, whilst Sir John continued, sighing heavily as he spoke, "Yes, God forbid! for I have three wives under it!"
Sir Jonah Barrington, Memoirs.
OU are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak— Pray, how did you manage to do it?" "In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife; And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw Has lasted the rest of my life."
Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.
E monde récompense plus souvent les apparances du mérite que le mérite même.
La Rochefoucauld, Réflexions.
URRAN told an anecdote of an Irish parliament man, who was boasting in the House of Commons of his attachment to trial by jury. "Mr. Speaker, by the trial by jury I have lived, and by the blessing of God, with the trial by jury I will die!" Curran sat near him, and whispered audibly, "What, Jack! do you mean to be hanged?"
Crabb Robinson, Diary.
HEY roused him with muffins—they roused him with ice— They roused him with mustard and cress— They roused him with jam and judicious advice— They set him conundrums to guess.
Lewis Carroll, Hunting of the Snark.
Y old friend Maltby, the brother of the bishop, was a very absent man. One day at Paris, in the Louvre, we were looking at the pictures, when a lady entered who spoke to me, and kept me some minutes in conversation. On rejoining Maltby, I said, "That was Mrs. ——. We have not met so long, she had almost forgotten me, and asked me if my name was Rogers." Maltby, still looking at the pictures, "And was it?"
Rogers, apud J. R. Planché.
O one likes to be disturbed at meals Or love.
Lord Byron, Don Juan.
HAT is man's end? To know and to be free. Think you to compass it by tracts and tea?
Alfred Austin, The Season.
O preach long, loud, and damnation, is the way to be cried up. We love a man that damns us, and we run after him again to save us.
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