Chapter WHATEVER to WHIPS of Index by Grocott's Quotations - Alpha

WHATEVER to WHIPS

WHATEVER.—And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.

Pope.—Essay on Man, Epi. I. Stanza 10; Epi. IV. Stanza 1.

Of joys I cannot paint, and I am bless’d,
In all that I conceive, whatever is, is best.

Crabbe.—Tales of the Hall, Book VI.

For forms of government let fools contest;
Whate’er is best administer’d is best.

Pope.—Essay on Man, Epi. III. Line 303.

WHEAT and TARES.—The servants of the householder came, and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares?

He said unto them, An enemy hath done this. The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up?

But he said, Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them.

St. Matthew, Chap. XIII. Verses 27, 28, 29.

His foes are so enrooted with his friends,
That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
He doth unfasten so and shake a friend.

Shakespeare.—King Henry IV. Part II. Act IV. Scene 1. (Archbishop of York to Mowbray.)

WHERE.—Hark! to the hurried question of Despair:
“Where is my child?”—an echo answers—“Where?”

Byron.—The Bride of Abydos, Canto II. Stan. 27.

WHIGS.—The Whigs are all ciphers, and I am the only unit in the cabinet which gives a value to them.

Lord Brougham; and see Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale, Act I. Scene 2; Plutarch’s Apophthegms, for a saying of Orontes; and Bacon’s Apothegms.—[The compiler does not vouch for the truth of the remark attributed to Lord B.] 1. A most fine figure! 2. To prove you a cipher.

Shakespeare.—Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act I. Scene 2.

WHIP.—That mends the gross mistakes of Nature,
And puts new life into dull matter.

Butler.—Hudibras, Part II. Canto I. Line 813.

WHIPS.—O tear from the whips and scorns of men!

Shenstone.—Elegy XX. Verse 12.

There’s the respect,
That makes calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act III. Scene 1. (His famous Soliloquy.) See “Fardels.”