Andrew Lang Quotes

Here’s a pot with a cot in a park
In a park where the peach-blossoms blew,
Where the lovers eloped in the dark,
Lived, died and were changed into two
Bright birds that eternally flew
Through the boughs of the may, as they sang;
’T is a tale was undoubtedly true
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.

There’s a joy without canker or cark,
There’s a pleasure eternally new,
’T is to gloat on the glaze and the mark
Of china that’s ancient and blue.

Politicians use statistics in the same way that a drunk uses lamp-posts—for support rather than illumination.

Among the various forms of science which are reaching and affecting the new popular tradition, we have reckoned Anthropology. Pleasantly enough, Anthropology has herself but recently emerged from that limbo of the unrecognised in which Psychical Research is pining.

They hear like ocean on a western beach
The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.

If indeed there be a god in heaven.

The windy lights of Autumn flare;
I watch the moonlit sails go by;
I marvel how men toil and fare,
The weary business that they play!
Their voyaging is vanity,
And fairy gold is all their gain,
And all the winds of winter cry,
“My Love returns no more again.”