Quotes from Henry Austin Dobson

He is a Patron who looks down, / With careless eyes on men who drown; / But if they chance to reach the land, / Encumbers them with helping hand

In merest prudence men should teach . . . That science ranks as monstrous things Two pairs of upper limbs; so wings-- E'en Angel's wings!--are fictions.

Old books, old wine, old Nankin blue;- All things, in short, to which belong The charm, the grace that Time makes strong, All these I prize, but (entre nous) Old friends are best!

Time goes you say? Ah no! Alas Time stays we go.

What ye have been ye still shall be, When we are dust the dust among, O yellow flowers!

I intended an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet.

Not as ours the books of old - Things that steam can stamp and fold; Not as ours the books of yore - Rows of type, and nothing more.

Fame is a food that dead men eat, I have no stomach for such meat.

Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour - let no night Seal thy sense in deathly slumber Till to delight Thou hast paid thy utmost blessing.