George Crabbe Quotes

Secrets with girls, like loaded guns with boys,
Are never valued till they make a noise.

Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain,
Like other farmers, flourish and complain.

The murmuring poor, who will not fast in peace.

And took for truth the test of ridicule.

Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd;
Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd;
The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd,
And ease of heart her every look convey'd.

Habit with him was all the test of truth,
It must be right: I’ve done it from my youth.

He tried the luxury of doing good.

The mind here exhibited is one untouched by pity, unstung by remorse, and uncorrected by shame; yet is this hardihood of temper and spirit broken by want, disease, solitude, and disappointment, and he becomes the victim of a distempered and horror-stricken fancy.

Oh, rather give me commentators plain,
Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.

Books cannot always please, however good;
Minds are not ever craving for their food.

Where Plenty smiles - alas! she smiles for few,
And those who taste not, yet behold her store,
Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore,
The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.

In idle wishes fools supinely stay;
Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.

Time has touched me gently in his race,
And left no odious furrows in my face.

Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.

A master passion is the love of news.