Quotes from Sir William S. Gilbert

Prithee, pretty maiden, will you marry me?(Hey, but I'm hopeful, willow, willow, waly!)

It's a song of a merryman, moping mum,Whose soul was sad, and whose glance was glum,Who sipped no sup, and who craved no crumb,As he sighed for the love of a lady.

Oh, I am a cook and a captain boldAnd the mate of the Nancy brig,And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite,And the crew of the captain's gig.

Pretty young wards in Chancery.

The House of Peers, throughout the war,Did nothing in particular,And did it very well.

When everyone is somebodee,Then no one's anybody!

I am the very model of a modern Major-General.I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,I know the Kings of England, and I quote the fights historical,From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical.

I'm called Little Buttercup—dear little Buttercup, Though I could never tell why.

I love my fellow creatures—I do all the good I can—Yet everybody says I'm such a disagreeable man!And I can't think why!

My object all sublimeI shall achieve in time—To let the punishment fit the crime.

Faint heart never won fair lady!Nothing venture, nothing win—Blood is thick, but water's thin—In for a penny, in for a pound—It's Love that makes the world go round!

Of that there is no manner of doubt—No probable, possible shadow of doubt—No possible doubt whatever.

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,I've got a little list—I've got a little list.Of society offenders who might well be underground,And who never would be missed—who never would be missed.

I am the Captain of the Pinafore;And a right good captain too!

Three little maids from school are we,Pert as a schoolgirl well can be,Filled to the brim with girlish glee.

The gratifying feeling that our duty has been done.

On a tree by a river a little tomtitSang "Willow, titwillow, titwillow!"And I said to him, "Dicky-bird, why do you sitSinging 'Willow, titwillow, titwillow!'"Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?" I cried,"Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?"With a shake of his poor little head he replied,"Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!"

The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la,Have nothing to do with the case.

Here's a pretty kettle of fish!

The world has joked incessantly for over fifty centuries.And every joke that's possible has long ago been made.

No soldier in that gallant bandHid half as well as he did.He lay concealed throughout the war,And so preserved his gore, O!

To sit in solemn silence in a dull dark dock,In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp shock,From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block.

Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes!Bow, bow, ye tradesmen, bow, ye masses.

When the foeman bares his steel,Tarantara, tarantara!We uncomfortable feel,Tarantara.