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Quips and Quiddities Part 7

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L'art de plaire est l'art de tromper.

VAUVENARGUES, _Reflexions_.

We don't marry beggars, said she: why, no: It seems that to make 'em is what you do; And as I can cook, and scour, and sew, I needn't pay half my victuals for you.

A man for himself should be able to scratch, But tickling's a luxury:--love, indeed!

Love burns as long as a lucifer-match, Wedlock's the candle! Now that's my creed.



GEORGE MEREDITH, _Modern Love_.

And while my schoolmates studied less, I resolutely studied _Moore_.

_Songs of Singularity._

"One of my aides-de-camp," said Lord Wellesley to Plunket on one occasion, "has written a personal narrative of his travels,--pray, Chief Justice, what is your definition of 'personal'?" "My lord," replied Plunket, "we lawyers always consider _personal_ as opposed to _real_."

LORD ALBEMARLE, _Fifty Years of my Life_.

I make the b.u.t.ter fly, all in an hour: I put aside the preserves and cold meats, Telling my master his cream has turned sour, Hiding his pickles, purloining his sweets.

I never languish for husband or dower, I never sigh to see gyps at my feet: I make the b.u.t.ter fly, all in an hour, Taking it home for my Sat.u.r.day treat.

_Lydia_, in G. O. TREVELYAN's _Horace at Athens_.

English is an expressive language, but not difficult to master. Its range is limited. It consists, so far as I can observe, of four words: "nice," "jolly," "charming," and "bore;" and some grammarians add "fond."

_Pinto_, in LORD BEACONSFIELD's _Lothair_.

When Sir George Rose was appointed one of the four judges of the now extinct Court of Review, he came to Lincoln's Inn with his colleagues to be sworn in. Some friend congratulating him on his access of dignity, he observed, "Yes! here we are, you see--_four by honours_!"

_Macmillan's Magazine._

Ah! who has seen the mailed lobster rise, Clap her broad wings, and, soaring, claim the skies?

When did the owl, descending from her bower, Crop, 'midst the fleecy flocks, the tender flower; Or the young heifer plunge, with pliant limb, In the salt wave, and fish-like strive to swim?

The same with plants--potatoes 'tatoes breed, The costly cabbage springs from cabbage-seed; Lettuce to lettuce, leeks to leeks, succeed; Nor e'er did cooling cuc.u.mbers presume To flower like myrtle, or like violets bloom.

_The Anti-Jacobin._

Une femme d'esprit m'a dit un jour un mot qui pourrait bien etre le secret de son s.e.xe; c'est que toute femme, en prenant un amant, tient plus de compte de la maniere dont les autres femmes voient cet homme que de la maniere dont elle le voit elle-meme.

CHAMFORT, _Maximes_.

Here, waiter, I'll dine in this box; I've looked at your long bill of fare: A Pythagorean it shocks To view all the rarities there.

I'm not o'erburdened with cash, Roast beef is the dinner for me; Then why should I eat _calipash_, Or why should I eat _calipee_?

Your trifle's no trifle, I ween, To customers prudent as I am; Your peas in December are green, But I'm not so green as to buy 'em.

With ven'son I seldom am fed-- Go, bring me a sirloin, you ninny; Who dines at a guinea a head Will ne'er by his head get a guinea.

JAMES SMITH, _Horace in London_.

One of Lord Dudley's eccentric habits was that of speaking to himself or thinking aloud. Soon after he succeeded to the t.i.tle of Dudley and Ward, a lady asked Lord Castlereagh how he accounted for the custom. "It is only Dudley speaking to Ward,"

was the ready answer to her inquiry.

SINCLAIR, _Old Times and Distant Places_.

Le secret d'ennuyer est celui de tout dire.

VOLTAIRE, _Discours_, vi.

I never heard Rogers volunteer an opinion upon Campbell, except after his death, when he had been to see the poet's statue. "It is the first time," said he, "that I have seen him stand straight for many years."

BRYAN WALLER PROCTER.

"Vexation of spirit"--that is the part that belongs to us; we leave the "vanity" to the women.

_Vanecourt_, in L. OLIPHANT's _Piccadilly_.

I watched her as she stoop'd to pluck A wild flower in her hair to twine; And wish'd that it had been my luck To call her mine.

Anon I heard her rate, with mad Mad words, her babe within its cot; And felt particularly glad That it had not.

C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.

Practice does not always make perfect. Curran, when told by his physician that he seemed to cough with more difficulty, replied, "That is odd enough, for I have been practising all night."

HORACE SMITH, _The Tin Trumpet_.

We talk little if we do not talk about ourselves.

W. HAZLITT, _Characteristics_.

And how was the Devil drest?

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