Walter Savage Landor (1775–1864): English writer, poet, and activist. The library holds 69 quotes by Walter Savage Landor, drawn from Gebir, To Robert Browning, The last Fruit of an old Tree. Epigram and other works. The 60 below are the most quoted; search the library in the maker for the rest.
I am heartily glad to witness your veneration for a book which, to say nothing of its holiness or authority, contains more specimens of genius and taste than any other volume in existence.
Truth, like the juice of a poppy, in small quantities, calms men; in larger, heats and irritates them, and is attended by fatal consequences in its excess.
Religion is the eldest sister of philosophy; on whatever subjects they may differ, it is unbecoming in either to quarrel, and most so about their inheritance.
Happiness doats on her work, and is prodigal to her favorite. As one drop of water hath an attraction for another, so do felicities run into felicities.
Love is a secondary passion in those who love most, a primary in those who love least. He who is inspired by it in a high degree is inspired by honour in a higher; it never reaches its plenitude of growth and perfection but in the most exalted minds.
The stars themselves are only bright by distance; go close, and all is earthy; but vapours illuminate there; from the breath and from the countenance of God comes light on worlds higher than they.
The foundation of domestic happiness is faith in the virtue of woman; the foundation of political happiness is confidence in the integrity of man; the foundation of all happiness, temporal and eternal, is reliance on the goodness of God.
Every great writer is a writer of history, let him treat on almost what subject he may. He carries with him for thousands of years a portion of his times; and, indeed, if only his own effigy were there, it would be greatly more than a fragment of his century.
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I loved; and next to Nature, Art.
I warm’d both hands against the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Anger is implanted in us as a sort of sting, to make us gnash with our teeth against the devil, to make us vehement against him, not to set us in array against each other. When anger rushes unrestrain’d to action,
Like a hot steed, it stumbles in its way.