Men Quotes
From beasts we scorn as soulless, In forest, field and den, The cry goes up to witness The soulessness of men
Every man's first declaration of love is bathos--the zenith of his passion connoting perhaps the nadir of his intelligence.
What all the wise men promised has not happened and what all the dammed fools said would happen has come to pass.
I set it down as a maxim, that it is good for a man to live where he can meet his betters, intellectual and social.
I never knew whether to pity or congratulate a man on coming to his senses.
I wonder is it because men are cowards in heart that they admire bravery so much, and place military valor so far beyond every other quality for reward and worship.
Titles are abolished; and the American Republic swarms with men claiming and bearing them.
The uselessness of men above sixty years of age and the incalculable benefit it would be in commercial, in political, and in professional life, if as a matter of course, men stopped work at this age.
Nothing shows our weakness more than to be so sharp-sighted at spying other men's faults, and so purblind about our own.
All excess is ill; but drunkenness is of the worst sort. It spoils health, dismounts the mind, and unmans men. It reveals secrets, is quarrelsome, lascivious, impudent, dangerous, and mad.
Prison does strange things to men. Although its purpose is to break the free spirit of a man, in many cases it just adds fuel to the fire that has never been and will never be extinguished.
Many people believe that they are attracted by God, or by Nature, when they are only repelled by man.
They say that man is mighty, He governs land and sea, He wields a mighty sceptre, O'er lesser powers that be.
The broken image of Man moves in minute by minute and cell by cell.... Poverty, hatred, war, police-criminals, bureaucracy, insanity, all symptoms of The Human Virus.
Man, proud man, drest in a little brief authority, most ignorant of what he's most assur d, glassy essence, like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, as make the angels weep.
I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man That function is smothered in surmise, And nothing is but what is not.
O Ceremony, show me but thy worth? What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.
Cry "havoc!" and let loose the dogs of war, That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
Bassanio: Do all men kill all the things they do not love? Shylock: Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Bassanio: Every offence is not a hate at first.
Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
Men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty To load a falling man.
So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.
Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite, Encompassed with thy lustful paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
Some of you young men think that war is all glamour and glory, but let me tell you, boys, it is all hell!
I travelled among unknown men, In lands beyond the sea; Nor England! did I know till then What love I bore to thee.
Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.