Quotes from Robert Southey

Order is the sanity of the mind, the health of the body, the peace of the city, the security of the State. As the beams to a house, as the bones to the microcosm of man, so is order to all things.

There is a magic in that little world, home; it is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never known beyond its hallowed limits

One fault begets another; one crime renders another necessary.

They who once engage in iniquitous designs miserably deceive themselves when they think that they will go so far and no farther; one fault begets another, one crime renders another necessary; and thus they are impelled continually downward into a depth of guilt, which at the commencement of their career they would have died rather than have incurred.

All deception in the course of life is indeed nothing else but a lie reduced to practice, and falsehood passing from words into things.

It is not for man to rest in absolute contentment. He is born to hopes and aspirations as the sparks fly upward, unless he has brutified his nature and quenched the spirit of immortality which is his portion.

How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven.

Three things a wise man will not trust, The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith.

But what they fought each other for,I could not well make out.

Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock—"O Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock."

From his brimstone bed, at break of day,A-walking the Devil is gone,To look at his little snug farm of the world,And see how his stock went on.

Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray, Each in the other melting.

"And everybody praised the duke,Who this great fight did win.""But what good came of it at last?"Quoth little Peterkin."Why, that I cannot tell," said he;"But 'twas a famous victory."

"…'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,"Who fell in the great victory."

It was a summer evening;Old Kaspar's work was done,And he before his cottage doorWas sitting in the sun;And by him sported on the greenHis little grandchild Wilhelmine.

And then they knew the perilous rock,And blessed the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

Curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost.

A kitten is in the animal world what a rosebud is in the garden.

Agreed to differ.

My days among the dead are past;Around me I behold,Where'er these casual eyes are cast,The mighty minds of old.

"In the days of my youth, I remembered my God,And he hath not forgotten my age."

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,That will not perish in the dust.

"You are old, Father William," the young man cried,"The few locks which are left you are gray;You are hale, Father William—a hearty old man:Now tell me the reason, I pray."

His coat was red, and his breeches were blue,And there was a hole where his tail came through.