Article
They would fight not for articles of faith, but for articles of food.
Poet and prose writer, 1775-1864
Cited as Landor. — 81 quotations
To conquer that abstraction which is called absence.
I am aging; that is, I have a whitish, or rather a light-colored, hair here and there.
Vanity and agiotage are to a Parisian the oxygen and hydrogen of life.
Assume more or less of a fictitious character, but congenial and agnate with the former.
We are in the habit of calling those bodies of men anarchal which are in a state of effervescence.
Perhaps an inanimate thing supplies me, while I am speaking, with whatever I possess of animation.
Rank pretends to fix the value of every one, and is the most arbitrary of all things.
They would fight not for articles of faith, but for articles of food.
My palfrey eyed them askance.
Ecclesiastical wealth and aulic dignities.
Like the generality of Genoese countrywomen, strongly built.
Certainties are uninteresting and sating.
The undertaker of the afore-cited poesy hath choused your highness.
Happiness, like air and water . . . is composite.
An Irish peer of recent creation.
I would rather have such . . . .in cub or kennel than in my closet or at my table.
I must have instruments of my own device.
Another cloud in the region of them, light enough to be fantastic and diaphanous.
Theologians and moralists . . . talk mostly in a drawling and dreaming way about it.
The laws are at present, both in form and essence, the greatest curse that society labors under.
Above all, the Servians . . . read, with much avidity, the evangile of their freedom.
Nothing is admitted extraneous from the indictment.
God forefend it should ever be recorded in our history.
We may in some measure frame our minds for the reception of happiness.
A fresh pleasure in every fresh posture of the limbs.
Let us descend from generalities to particulars.
In such a sweet, guttural accent.
The verdict of the judges was biased by nothing else than their habitudes of thinking.
I knew by these harbingers who were coming.
They hazard to cut their feet.
The hypallage, of which Virgil is fonder than any other writer, is much the gravest fault in language.
Every good writer has much idiom.
Feeble from inanition, inert from weariness.
Absurdities are great or small in proportion to custom or insuetude.
An unwillingness to insult over their helpless fatuity.
The commendations of this people are not always left-handed and detractive.
His bishops lead him forth, and light him on.
The literate now chose their emperor, as the military chose theirs.
The whole machine of government ought not to bear upon the people with a weight so heavy and oppressive.
They, from time immemorial, had paid a modus, or composition.
We are motes in the midst of generations.
I behold . . . the solitary majesty of Crete, mother of a religion, it is said, that lived two thousand years.
With a strong objurgation of the elbow in his ribs.
That they may not incline or be obligated to any vile or lowly occupations.
The virtuous man meets with more opposites and opponents than any other.
It arises in neither from penury of thought.
In church they are taught to love God; after church they are practiced to love their neighbor.
Poets are nearly all prone to melancholy.
He protest that his measures are pacific.
He really looks quite concerned.
I would now, on the reclamation both of generosity and of justice, try clemency.
We may introduce a song without retrospect to the old comedy.
Bossuet is as scientific in the structure of his sentences.
May the day when we become the second people upon earth . . . be the day of our utter extirpation.
Many interests have grown up, and seeded, and twisted their roots in the crevices of many wrongs.
Which of us shall sing or sermonize the other fast asleep?
Hardly anything short of an invasion could rouse them again to war.
We have not always been of the . . . same side in politics.
A signification of being pleased.
There were some few who slank obliquely from them as they passed.
It now appears that they were still snifing and hankering after their old quarters.
Many bright specks bubble up along the blue Egean.
Ambition is but avarice on stilts, and masked.
If his sentences were properly stopped.
Whether any poet of our country since Shakespeare has exerted a greater variety of powers with less strain and less ostentation.
How often has stricken you dumb with his irony!
They are not weak, suckled by Wisdom.
You never will supplant the received ideas of God.
The swell and subsidence of his periods.
She tiffed with Tim, she ran from Ralph.
Soldiers can never stand idle long together.
A haunch of venison would be trash to a Brahmin.
This, of all advantages, is the greatest . . . the most tutelary of morals.
In the very [poetry] there often an undersong of sense which none beside the poetic mind . . . can comprehend.
Philip swore upon the Evangelists to abstain from aggression in my absence.
Ridicule has followed the vestiges of Truth, but never usurped her place.
A few ounces of mutton, with a little virgin oil.
I must cool a little, and watch my opportunity.
The priests at the altar . . . weltering in their blood.
The fruit of the tree . . . is small, of little juice, and bad quality. I presume it to be a wilding.
Not according to the wry rigor of our neighbors, who never take up an old idea without some extravagance in its application.