And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
I wish I could take language And fold it like cool, moist rags. I would lay words on your forehead. I would wrap words on your wrists. 'There, there,' my words would say Or something better. I would ask them to murmur, 'Hush' and 'Shh, shhh, it's all right.' I would ask them to hold you all night. I wish I could take language And daub and soothe and cool Where fever blisters and burns, Where fever turns yourself against you. I wish I could take language And heal the words that were the wounds You have no names for.
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
I, I, I myself
sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind;
But fathers that bear bags
Shall see their children kind.
There is no dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of devils, where all are equals.
Style is the dress of thoughts ... if your style is homely, coarse, and vulgar, they will appear to as much disadvantage, and be as ill received, as your person, though ever so well-proportioned, would if dressed in rags, dirt, and tatters.
Somebody has to go polish the stars, They're looking a little bit dull. Somebody has to go polish the stars, For the eagles and starlings and gulls Have all been complaining they're tarnished and worn, They say they want new ones we cannot afford. So please get your rags And your polishing jars, Somebody has to go polish the stars.
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. I looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein and, as he read, he wept, and trembled and, not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, What shall I do.
No picture is made to endure nor to live with but it is made to sell and sell quickly with usura, sin against nature, is thy bread ever more of stale rags is thy bread dry as paper.
It was funny actually because that was still during the time we were dating. He would get all these calls because supposedly before we broke up, we had already broken up in the trades, in the rags or whatever.
Good people, things will never go well in England so long as goods be not in common, and so long as there be villeins and gentlemen. By what right are they whom we call lords greater folk than we On what grounds have they deserved it Why do they hold us in serfage If we all came of the same father and mother, of Adam and Eve, how can they say or prove that they are better than we, if it be not that they make us gain for them by our toil what they spend in their pride They are clothed in velvet and warm in their furs and their ermines, while we are covered with rags. They have wine and spices and fir bread and we oat-cake and straw, and water to drink. They have leisure and fine houses we have pain and labour, the rain and the wind in the fields. And yet it is of us and of our toil that these men hold their state.
There is no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
I saw a man clothed with rags ... a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.
The man forget not, though in rags he lies, and know the mortal through a crown's disguise.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories