Languish Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
industry-cannot-flourish-if-labor-languish-calvin-coolidge
love-left-to-languish-will-bear-poisonous-fruit-sarah-winter
judah-mourns-her-cities-languish-they-wail-for-land-cry-goes-up-from-jerusalem-jeremiah-142
judah-mourneth-and-the-gates-thereof-languish-they-are-black-unto-the-ground-and-the-cry-of-jerusalem-is-gone-up
we-used-to-languish-when-we-walked-sidle-down-street-like-dogs-that-have-just-done-something-wrong-now-rube-walks-upright-because-hes-on-attack-markus-zusak
now-let-us-sport-us-while-we-may-and-now-like-amorous-birds-prey-rather-at-once-our-time-devour-than-languish-in-his-slowchapped-power-andrew-marvell
the-fishers-also-shall-mourn-and-all-they-that-cast-angle-into-the-brooks-shall-lament-and-they-that-spread-nets-upon-the-waters-shall-languish
let-me-be-strong-for-to-be-anything-else-is-to-languish-in-abyss-compromise-to-descend-to-places-impoverishment-destitute-that-they-will-squelch-my-soul-crush-my-heart-craig-d-lo
perspective-as-its-inventor-remarked-is-beautiful-thing-what-horrors-damp-huts-where-human-beings-languish-may-not-become-picturesque-through-aerial-george-eliot
foul-jealousy-that-turnest-love-divine-to-joyless-dread-makest-loving-heart-with-hateful-thoughts-to-languish-to-pine-edmund-spenser
carecharmer-sleep-son-sable-night-brother-to-death-in-silent-darkness-born-relive-my-languish-restore-light-samuel-daniel
leaving-american-disaster-victims-to-languish-is-morally-reprehensible-un-american
as-long-as-more-people-will-pay-admission-to-theater-to-see-naked-body-than-to-see-naked-brain-drama-will-languish-george-bernard-shaw
tut-man-one-fire-burns-out-anothers-burning-one-pain-is-lessned-by-anothers-anguish-turn-giddy-be-holp-by-backward-turning-one-desperate-grief-cures-william-shakespeare
believe-me-it-is-great-deal-better-to-find-castiron-proof-that-youre-innocent-than-to-languish-in-cell-hoping-that-policewho-already-think-youre-douglas-adams
and-even-yet-i-dare-not-let-it-languish-dare-not-indulge-in-memorys-rapturous-pain-once-drinking-deep-that-divinest-anguish-how-could-i-seek-empty-world-again-emily-bronte
the-main-purpose-of-life-is-to-live-rightly-think-rightly-act-rightly-the-soul-must-languish-when-we-give-all-our-thought-to-the-body
courage-does-not-panic-it-prays-courage-does-not-bemoan-it-believes-courage-does-not-languish-it-listens-max-lucado
the-earth-mourneth-and-fadeth-away-the-world-languisheth-and-fadeth-away-the-haughty-people-of-the-earth-do-languish
oh-sir-loftiest-hopes-on-earth-draw-lots-with-meaner-hopes-heroic-breasts-breathing-bad-air-run-risk-pestilence-or-lacking-limejuice-when-they-cross-george-eliot
the-earth-dries-up-withers-world-languishes-withers-exalted-earth-languish-isaiah-244
thy-heart-shall-parch-with-love-for-me-thy-mouth-shall-parch-with-love-for-me-languish-moreover-with-love-for-me-with-parched-mouth-pass-thy-days-atharva-veda
What good does it do me, after all, if an ever-watchful authority keeps an eye out to ensure that my pleasures will be tranquil and races ahead of me to ward off all danger, sparing me the need even to think about such things, if that authority, even as it removes the smallest thorns from my path, is also absolute master of my liberty and my life; if it monopolizes vitality and existence to such a degree that when it languishes, everything around it must also languish; when it sleeps, everything must also sleep; and when it dies, everything must also perish? There are some nations in Europe whose inhabitants think of themselves in a sense as colonists, indifferent to the fate of the place they live in. The greatest changes occur in their country without their cooperation. They are not even aware of precisely what has taken place. They suspect it; they have heard of the event by chance. More than that, they are unconcerned with the fortunes of their village, the safety of their streets, the fate of their church and its vestry. They think that such things have nothing to do with them, that they belong to a powerful stranger called 'the government.' They enjoy these goods as tenants, without a sense of ownership, and never give a thought to how they might be improved. They are so divorced from their own interests that even when their own security and that of their children is finally compromised, they do not seek to avert the danger themselves but cross their arms and wait for the nation as a whole to come to their aid. Yet as utterly as they sacrifice their own free will, they are no fonder of obedience than anyone else. They submit, it is true, to the whims of a clerk, but no sooner is force removed than they are glad to defy the law as a defeated enemy. Thus one finds them ever wavering between servitude and license. When a nation has reached this point, it must either change its laws and mores or perish, for the well of public virtue has run dry: in such a place one no longer finds citizens but only subjects.

Alexis de Tocqueville
what-good-does-it-do-me-after-all-if-everwatchful-authority-keeps-eye-out-to-ensure-that-my-pleasures-will-be-tranquil-races-ahead-me-to-ward-off-all-danger-sparing-me-need-even-
To His Coy Mistress Had we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winge¨d chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found; Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try That long-preserved virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust; The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapped power. Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life: Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Andrew Marvell
to-his-coy-mistress-had-we-but-world-enough-time-this-coyness-lady-were-no-crime-we-would-sit-down-think-which-way-to-walk-pass-our-long-loves-day-thou-by-indian-ganges-side-shou
What?' He cried, darting at him a look of fury: 'Dare you still implore the Eternal's mercy? Would you feign penitence, and again act an Hypocrite's part? Villain, resign your hopes of pardon. Thus I secure my prey!' As He said this, darting his talons into the Monk's shaven crown, He sprang with him from the rock. The Caves and mountains rang with Ambrosio's shrieks. The Daemon continued to soar aloft, till reaching a dreadful height, He released the sufferer. Headlong fell the Monk through the airy waste; The sharp point of a rock received him; and He rolled from precipice to precipice, till bruised and mangled He rested on the river's banks. Life still existed in his miserable frame: He attempted in vain to raise himself; His broken and dislocated limbs refused to perform their office, nor was He able to quit the spot where He had first fallen. The Sun now rose above the horizon; Its scorching beams darted full upon the head of the expiring Sinner. Myriads of insects were called forth by the warmth; They drank the blood which trickled from Ambrosio's wounds; He had no power to drive them from him, and they fastened upon his sores, darted their stings into his body, covered him with their multitudes, and inflicted on him tortures the most exquisite and insupportable. The Eagles of the rock tore his flesh piecemeal, and dug out his eyeballs with their crooked beaks. A burning thirst tormented him; He heard the river's murmur as it rolled beside him, but strove in vain to drag himself towards the sound. Blind, maimed, helpless, and despairing, venting his rage in blasphemy and curses, execrating his existence, yet dreading the arrival of death destined to yield him up to greater torments, six miserable days did the Villain languish. On the Seventh a violent storm arose: The winds in fury rent up rocks and forests: The sky was now black with clouds, now sheeted with fire: The rain fell in torrents; It swelled the stream; The waves overflowed their banks; They reached the spot where Ambrosio lay, and when they abated carried with them into the river the Corse of the despairing Monk.

Matthew Lewis
what-he-cried-darting-at-him-look-fury-dare-you-still-implore-eternals-mercy-would-you-feign-penitence-again-act-hypocrites-part-villain-resign-your-hopes-pardon-thus-i-secure-my
Exoneration of Jesus Christ If Christ was in fact God, he knew all the future. Before Him like a panorama moved the history yet to be. He knew how his words would be interpreted. He knew what crimes, what horrors, what infamies, would be committed in his name. He knew that the hungry flames of persecution would climb around the limbs of countless martyrs. He knew that thousands and thousands of brave men and women would languish in dungeons in darkness, filled with pain. He knew that his church would invent and use instruments of torture; that his followers would appeal to whip and fagot, to chain and rack. He saw the horizon of the future lurid with the flames of the auto da fe. He knew what creeds would spring like poisonous fungi from every text. He saw the ignorant sects waging war against each other. He saw thousands of men, under the orders of priests, building prisons for their fellow-men. He saw thousands of scaffolds dripping with the best and bravest blood. He saw his followers using the instruments of pain. He heard the groans-saw the faces white with agony. He heard the shrieks and sobs and cries of all the moaning, martyred multitudes. He knew that commentaries would be written on his words with swords, to be read by the light of fagots. He knew that the Inquisition would be born of the teachings attributed to him. He saw the interpolations and falsehoods that hypocrisy would write and tell. He saw all wars that would be waged, and-he knew that above these fields of death, these dungeons, these rackings, these burnings, these executions, for a thousand years would float the dripping banner of the cross. He knew that hypocrisy would be robed and crowned-that cruelty and credulity would rule the world; knew that liberty would perish from the earth; knew that popes and kings in his name would enslave the souls and bodies of men; knew that they would persecute and destroy the discoverers, thinkers and inventors; knew that his church would extinguish reason's holy light and leave the world without a star. He saw his disciples extinguishing the eyes of men, flaying them alive, cutting out their tongues, searching for all the nerves of pain. He knew that in his name his followers would trade in human flesh; that cradles would be robbed and women's breasts unbabed for gold. And yet he died with voiceless lips. Why did he fail to speak? Why did he not tell his disciples, and through them the world: 'You shall not burn, imprison and torture in my name. You shall not persecute your fellow-men.' Why did he not plainly say: 'I am the Son of God, ' or, 'I am God'? Why did he not explain the Trinity? Why did he not tell the mode of baptism that was pleasing to him? Why did he not write a creed? Why did he not break the chains of slaves? Why did he not say that the Old Testament was or was not the inspired word of God? Why did he not write the New Testament himself? Why did he leave his words to ignorance, hypocrisy and chance? Why did he not say something positive, definite and satisfactory about another world? Why did he not turn the tear-stained hope of heaven into the glad knowledge of another life? Why did he not tell us something of the rights of man, of the liberty of hand and brain? Why did he go dumbly to his death, leaving the world to misery and to doubt? I will tell you why. He was a man, and did not know.

Robert G. Ingersoll
exoneration-jesus-christ-if-christ-was-in-fact-god-he-knew-all-future-before-him-like-panorama-moved-history-yet-to-be-he-knew-how-his-words-would-be-interpreted-he-knew-what-cri
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