Samuel Butler Quotes

Some have been beaten till they know
What wood a cudgel's of by th' blow;
Some kick'd until they can feel whether
A shoe be Spanish or neat's leather.

Some force whole regions, in despite
O' geography, to change their site;
Make former times shake hands with latter,
And that which was before come after.
But those that write in rhyme still make
The one verse for the other's sake;
For one for sense, and one for rhyme,
I think 's sufficient at one time.

He cou'd foretel whats'ever was By consequence to come to pass; As death of great men, alterations, Diseases, battles, inundations. All this, without th' eclipse o' th' sun, Or dreadful comet, he hath done, By inward light; away as good, And easy to be understood; But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o' th' post, and falsely charge Upon themselves what others forge: As if they were consenting to All mischiefs in the world men do: Or, like the Devil, did tempt and sway 'em To rogueries, and then betray 'em.

This Light inspires, and plays upon The nose of Saint like Bag-pipe drone, And speaks through hollow empty Soul, As through a Trunk, or whisp'ring hole, Such language as no mortal Ear But spiritual Eve-droppers can hear.

Friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable at last.

When pious frauds and holy shifts
Are dispensations and gifts.

If he that in the field is slain
Be in the bed of honour lain,
He that is beaten may be said
To lie in honour's truckle-bed.

Cheer'd up himself with ends of verse
And sayings of philosophers.

I am not now in fortune's power:
He that is down can fall no lower.

For those that run away and fly,
Take place at least o' the enemy.

With mortal crisis doth portend
My days to appropinque an end.

While the honour thou hast got
Is spick and span new.

These reasons made his mouth to water.

He had got a hurt
O' the inside, of a deadlier sort.

I 'll make the fur
Fly 'bout the ears of the old cur.