Quotes About Reflection

One who is too wise an observer of the business of others, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.

Remembrance and reflection how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.

Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise; His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies

Give me again my hollow tree,A crust of bread, and liberty.

Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell,For sober, studious days!

Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom,Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!

Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner thingsTo low ambition, and the pride of kings.Let us, since life can little more supplyThan just to look about us, and to die,Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man;A mighty maze! but not without a plan.

A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying... that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan: The proper study of mankind is man.

Some old men, continually praise the time of their youth. In fact, you would almost think that there were no fools in their days, but unluckily they themselves are left as an example.

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,In pleasing memory of all he stole.

Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear; 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.

A man of business may talk of philosophy; a man who has none may practise it.

A man should never be ashamed to own he has been wrong, which is but saying, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.

Let me tell you I am better acquainted with you for a long absence, as men are with themselves for a long affliction absence does but hold off a friend, to make one see him the truer.

This long disease, my life.

Know thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man.

Philosophy, that leaned on Heaven before, Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.

Remembrance and reflection how allied! What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide!

For he lives twice who can at once employ, The present well, and e'en the past enjoy.

Let Sporus tremble — "What? that thing of silk, Sporus, that mere white curd of ass's milk? Satire or sense, alas! can Sporus feel? Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?" Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded wings, This painted Child of Dirt that stinks and stings; Whose Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys, Yet Wit ne'er tastes, and Beauty ne'er enjoys

Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear, with ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear...

Where beams of imagination play, The memory's soft figures melt away.

A little learning is a dang'rous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again.