Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English) | by Linux fortune |
So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage leaf to make an apple pie; and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street pops its head into the shop. "What! no soap?" So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top, and they all fell to playing the game of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots. -- Samuel Foote | |
Never put off till run-time what you can do at compile-time. -- D. Gries | |
A platitude is simply a truth repeated till people get tired of hearing it. -- Stanley Baldwin | |
Never put off till tomorrow what you can avoid all together. | |
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced -- even a proverb is no proverb to you till your life has illustrated it. -- John Keats | |
"Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?" he asked. "Begin at the beginning," the King said, gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop." Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll | |
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced -- even a proverb is no proverb to you till your life has illustrated it. -- John Keats | |
Till then we shall be content to admit openly, what you (religionists) whisper under your breath or hide in technical jargon, that the ancient secret is a secret still; that man knows nothing of the Infinite and Absolute; and that, knowing nothing, he had better not be dogmatic about his ignorance. And, meanwhile, we will endeavour to be as charitable as possible, and whilst you trumpet forth officially your contempt for our skepticism, we will at least try to believe that you are imposed upon by your own bluster. - Leslie Stephen, "An agnostic's Apology", Fortnightly Review, 1876 | |
You can't expect a boy to be vicious till he's been to a good school. -- H.H. Munro | |
The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. "Where shall I begin, please your Majesty ?" he asked. "Begin at the beginning,", the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop." -- Lewis Carroll | |
An Hacker there was, one of the finest sort Who controlled the system; graphics was his sport. A manly man, to be a wizard able; Many a protected file he had sitting on his table. His console, when he typed, a man might hear Clicking and feeping wind as clear, Aye, and as loud as does the machine room bell Where my lord Hacker was Prior of the cell. The Rule of good St Savage or St Doeppnor As old and strict he tended to ignore; He let go by the things of yesterday And took the modern world's more spacious way. He did not rate that text as a plucked hen Which says that Hackers are not holy men. And that a hacker underworked is a mere Fish out of water, flapping on the pier. That is to say, a hacker out of his cloister. That was a text he held not worth an oyster. And I agreed and said his views were sound; Was he to study till his head wend round Poring over books in the cloisters? Must he toil As Andy bade and till the very soil? Was he to leave the world upon the shelf? Let Andy have his labor to himself! -- Chaucer [well, almost. Ed.] | |
And did those feet, in ancient times, Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the Holy Lamb of God In England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon these crowded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my arrows of desire! Bring me my spears! O clouds unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire! I shall not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword rest in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land. -- William Blake, "Jerusalem" | |
Cold be hand and heart and bone, and cold be sleep under stone; never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead. In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on gold here let them lie, till the dark lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land. -- J. R. R. Tolkien | |
Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe. Four be the things I'd been better without: Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt. Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne. Three be the things I shall have till I die: Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye. -- Dorothy Parker, "Inventory" [or "Not so Deep as a Well"?] | |
Get out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight! Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing, Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains! Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty! Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness, Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended. -- J. R. R. Tolkien | |
I had an errand there: gathering water-lilies, green leaves and lilies white to please my pretty lady, the last ere the year's end to keep them from the winter, to flower by her pretty feet till the snows are melted. Each year at summer's end I go to find them for her, in a wide pool, deep and clear, far down Withywindle; there they open first in spring and there they linger latest. By that pool long ago I found the River-daughter, fair young Goldberry sitting in the rushes. Sweet was her singing then, and her heart was beating! And that proved well for you--for now I shall no longer go down deep again along the forest-water, no while the year is old. Nor shall I be passing Old Man Willow's house this side of spring-time, not till the merry spring, when the River-daughter dances down the withy-path to bathe in the water. -- J. R. R. Tolkien | |
Lift every voice and sing Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the listening skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us. Sing a song full of the hope that the present has bought us. Facing the rising sun of our new day begun, Let us march on till victory is won. -- James Weldon Johnson | |
Little Fly, Thy summer's play If thought is life My thoughtless hand And strength & breath, Has brush'd away. And the want Of thought is death, Am not I A fly like thee? Then am I Or art not thou A happy fly A man like me? If I live Or if I die. For I dance And drink & sing, Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. -- William Blake, "The Fly" | |
Most folks they like the daytime, 'cause they like to see the shining sun. They're up in the morning, off and a-running till they're too tired for having fun. But when the sun goes down, and the bright lights shine, my daytime has just begun. Now there are two sides to this great big world, and one of them is always night. If you can take care of business in the sunshine, baby, I guess you're gonna be all right. Don't come looking for me to lend you a hand. My eyes just can't stand the light. 'Cause I'm a night owl honey, sleep all day long. -- Carly Simon | |
Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the double lock will keep; May no brick through the window break, And, no one rob me till I awake. | |
On a morning from a Bogart movie, in a country where they turned back time, You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre contemplating a crime. She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running like a watercolor in the rain. Don't bother asking for explanations, she'll just tell you that she came In the Year of the Cat. She doesn't give you time for questions, as she locks up your arm in hers, And you follow 'till your sense of which direction completely disappears. By the blue-tiled walls near the market stall there's a hidden door she leads you to. These days, she say, I feel my life just like a river running through The Year of the Cat. Well, she looks at you so coolly, And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea. She comes in incense and patchouli, So you take her to find what's waiting inside The Year of the Cat. Well, morning comes and you're still with her, but the bus and the tourists are gone, And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket, so you have to stay on. But the drum-beat strains of the night remain in the rhythm of the new-born day. You know some time you're bound to leave her, but for now you're going to stay In the Year of the Cat. -- Al Stewart, "Year of the Cat" | |
The ladies men admire, I've heard, Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light; They'd rather stay at home at night. They do not keep awake till three, Nor read erotic poetry. They never sanction the impure, Nor recognize an overture. They shrink from powders and from paints... So far, I've had no complaints. -- Dorothy Parker | |
The smiling Spring comes in rejoicing, And surly Winter grimly flies. Now crystal clear are the falling waters, And bonnie blue are the sunny skies. Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the morning, The ev'ning gilds the oceans's swell: All creatures joy in the sun's returning, And I rejoice in my bonnie Bell. The flowery Spring leads sunny Summer, The yellow Autumn presses near; Then in his turn come gloomy Winter, Till smiling Spring again appear. Thus seasons dancing, life advancing, Old Time and Nature their changes tell; But never ranging, still unchanging, I adore my bonnie Bell. -- Robert Burns, "My Bonnie Bell" | |
"Twas bergen and the eirie road Did mahwah into patterson: "Beware the Hopatcong, my son! All jersey were the ocean groves, The teeth that bite, the nails And the red bank bayonne. that claw! Beware the bound brook bird, and shun He took his belmar blade in hand: The kearney communipaw." Long time the folsom foe he sought Till rested he by a bayway tree And, as in nutley thought he stood, And stood a while in thought. The Hopatcong with eyes of flame, Came whippany through the englewood, One, two, one, two, and through And garfield as it came. and through The belmar blade went hackensack! "And hast thou slain the Hopatcong? He left it dead and with it's head Come to my arms, my perth amboy! He went weehawken back. Hohokus day! Soho! Rahway!" He caldwell in his joy. Did mahwah into patterson: All jersey were the ocean groves, And the red bank bayonne. -- Paul Kieffer | |
we will invent new lullabies, new songs, new acts of love, we will cry over things we used to laugh & our new wisdom will bring tears to eyes of gentle creatures from other planets who were afraid of us till then & in the end a summer with wild winds & new friends will be. | |
When someone makes a move We'll send them all we've got, Of which we don't approve, John Wayne and Randolph Scott, Who is it that always intervenes? Remember those exciting fighting scenes? U.N. and O.A.S., To the shores of Tripoli, They have their place, I guess, But not to Mississippoli, But first, send the Marines! What do we do? We send the Marines! For might makes right, Members of the corps And till they've seen the light, All hate the thought of war: They've got to be protected, They'd rather kill them off by peaceful means. All their rights respected, Stop calling it aggression-- Till somebody we like can be elected. We hate that expression! We only want the world to know That we support the status quo; They love us everywhere we go, So when in doubt, send the Marines! -- Tom Lehrer, "Send The Marines" | |
Yours is not to reason why, Just to Sail Away. And when you find you have to throw Your Legacy away; Remember life as was it is, And is as it were; Chasing sounds across the galaxy 'Till silence is but a blur. -- QYX. | |
Don't hate yourself in the morning -- sleep till noon. | |
If you think last Tuesday was a drag, wait till you see what happens tomorrow! | |
I could dance with you till the cows come home. On second thought, I'd rather dance with the cows till you come home. -- Groucho Marx | |
Jargon Coiner (#6) An irregular feature that aims to give you advance warning of new jargon that we've just made up. * TLDography (pronounced till-daw-graffy): The study of top leval domains. Example: "I asked my friend, a TLDographer, what country .ca stood for, and he responded, 'California, of course'." * TLDofy (pronounced till-duh-fy): Identifying a country by its top level domain. Example: "Oh, so you're from .de? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" * HTML lapse: A period of time when the brain slips into thinking in HTML. | |
"I don't know what you mean by 'glory'," Alice said. Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. "Of course you don't -- till I tell you. I meant 'there's a nice knock-down argument for you!'" "But glory doesn't mean 'a nice knock-down argument'," Alice objected. "When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in a rather scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean -- neither more nor less." "The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things." "The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master -- that's all." -- Lewis Carrol, "Through the Looking Glass" | |
No one knows what he can do till he tries. -- Publilius Syrus | |
You just wait, I'll sin till I blow up! -- Dylan Thomas | |
Are you a parent? Do you sometimes find yourself unsure as to what to say in those awkward situations? Worry no more... You wouldn't understand. You ask too many questions. In order to be a man, you have to learn to follow orders. That's for me to know and you to find out. Don't let those bullies push you around. Go in there and stick up for yourself. You're acting too big for your britches. Well, you broke it. Now are you satisfied? Wait till your father gets home. Bored? If you're bored, I've got some chores for you. Shape up or ship out. | |
What really shapes and conditions and makes us is somebody only a few of us ever have the courage to face: and that is the child you once were, long before formal education ever got its claws into you -- that impatient, all-demanding child who wants love and power and can't get enough of either and who goes on raging and weeping in your spirit till at last your eyes are closed and all the fools say, "Doesn't he look peaceful?" It is those pent-up, craving children who make all the wars and all the horrors and all the art and all the beauty and discovery in life, because they are trying to achieve what lay beyond their grasp before they were five years old. -- Robertson Davies, "The Rebel Angels" | |
<calc> yea it sounds useful for RE'ing USB <calc> i have a useless 3com usb camera here :( <knghtbrd> calc: 3Com could have you arrested for violating laws which don't exist 'till October ;> <calc> knghtbrd: i will hide :) <knghtbrd> ...resisting arrest too eh? <calc> knghtbrd: no i will hide before i get served | |
Consider the postage stamp: its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there. -- Josh Billings | |
Suggest you just sit there and wait till life gets easier. | |
Term, holidays, term, holidays, till we leave school, and then work, work, work till we die. -- C.S. Lewis | |
The King and his advisor are overlooking the battle field: King: "How goes the battle plan?" Advisor: "See those little black specks running to the right?" K: "Yes." A: "Those are their guys. And all those little red specks running to the left are our guys. Then when they collide we wait till the dust clears." K: "And?" A: "If there are more red specks left than black specks, we win." K: "But what about the ^#!!$% battle plan?" A: "So far, it seems to be going according to specks." | |
break; /* don't do magic till later */ -- Larry Wall in stab.c from the perl source code |