Chapter MOUTH to MUSIC of Index by Grocott's Quotations - Alpha

MOUTH to MUSIC

MOUTH.—I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse
The tyrant’s wish, “That mankind only had
One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce;”
My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad,
And much more tender on the whole than fierce;
It being (not now, but only while a lad)
That womankind had but one rosy mouth,
To kiss them all at once from north to south.

Byron.—Don Juan, Canto VI. Stanza 27.

MOUTHS.—He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone.

Churchill.—The Rosciad, Line 322.

MULTITUDE.—We too are a multitude.

Ovid.—Meta., Book I. Verse 355.

It is the practice of the multitude to bark at eminent men, as little dogs do at strangers.

Seneca.—Of a Happy Life, Chap. XV.

MURDER.—’Twas not enough
By subtle fraud to snatch a single life:
Puny impiety! whole kingdoms fell
To sate the lust of power: more horrid still,
The foulest stain and scandal of our nature,
Became its boast. One murder made a villain;
Millions a hero.

Dr. Porteus.—Poem on Death.

One to destroy is murder by the law,
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;
To murder thousands takes a specious name,
War’s glorious art, and gives immortal fame.

Young.—Love of Fame, Satire VII. Line 55.

Murder may pass unpunish’d for a time,
But tardy justice will o’ertake the crime.

Dryden.—The Cock and Fox.

MURDER.—Foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.

Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act I. Scene 2. (After hearing of his Father’s Ghost.)

For murther, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ.

Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act II. Scene 2. (Chiding himself for his apathy.)

Murther most foul, as in the best it is.

Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act I. Scene 5. (His Father’s Ghost to him.)

’Tis of all vices the most contrary
To every virtue, and humanity;
For they intend the pleasure and delight,
But this the dissolution, of nature.

Marmion.—The Antiquary, Act III. Scene 1.

MURMURS.—With murmurs of soft rills and whispering trees.

Garth.—The Dispensary, Canto I. Line 84.

As for murmurs, mother, we grumble a little now and then, to be sure. But there’s no love lost between us.