From William of Orange to William Pitt the younger there was but one man without whom English history must have taken a different turn, and that was William Pitt the elder.

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Eloquence is in the assembly, not merely in the speaker.

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The press is like the air, a chartered libertine.

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Poverty of course is no disgrace, but it is damned annoying.

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Unlimited power corrupts the possessor.

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Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom.

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Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged heart.

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Theoretical principals must sometimes give way for the sake of practical advantages.

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If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms never never never!

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Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.

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Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants it is the creed of slaves.

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Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who posses it; and this I know, my lords: that where law ends, tyranny begins.

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Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman

One pitt containes him now that could not dye
Before a thousand pitts in him did lye;
Soe many spotts upon his flesh were shewne
'Cause on his soule sinne fastned almost none.

poem by William StrodeReport problemRelated quotes
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Young William And Young April

Young William and young April
Met in the park one day.
Young William said to April,
'Why did you come this way? '

Young April said to William,
'I thought I might see you.'
Young William, then to April,
'It's funny, what you do.'

Young April gave to William
A sweet, young childhood kiss.
Young William said to April,
'Don't bother me like this.'

Young April stood in silence,
Not knowing what to do.
Then young William turned away.
Young April, torn in two.

Young William said, 'Don't follow me.'
Away from her he fled.
April then, sat down and cried,
And wished that she was dead.

William never came again.
At least, for many years.
Fearful that young April still,
Might be there shedding tears.

William walked the park again.
It seemed just like before.
Wondering if he might see her.
Young April, there once more.

Young William never noticed.
The roses hid it well.
The place they found Young April.
The place she used to dwell.

poem by Greenwolfe 1962Report problemRelated quotes
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Painter Named William

WILLIAM THE PAINTER
With a great smile that always shines,
he is a great painter, he paints art real fine.
William makes paintings with acrylic, oils and pastels,
he is a realistic painter, muralist and cartoonist as well.
I went to William’s art event,
it was at a church is where I went.
He did a mural on their wall,
it was huge, it wasn’t small.
William has a great eye for shape and form,
he is an original artist, not in the norm.
Now I just saw William today,
he was happy to see me and we talked away.
I will do a mural with him in Lake Worth soon,
we will paint a wall with some cartoons.
Looking forward William to see more of your art,
your art is unique, it sets you apart.

poem by Christina SunriseReport problemRelated quotes
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I am and always will be an HRH. But out of personal choice I like to be called William because that is my name and I want people to call me William - for now.

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Charles Lamb

The Two Bees

But a few words could William say,
And those few could not speak plain,
Yet thought he was a man one day;
Never saw I boy so vain.


From what could vanity proceed
In such a little lisping lad?
Or was it vanity indeed?
Or was he only very glad?


For he without his maid may go
To the heath with elder boys,
And pluck ripe berries where they grow:
Well may William then rejoice.


Be careful of your little charge;
Elder boys, let him not rove;
The heath is wide, the heath is large,
From your sight he must not move.


But rove he did: they had not been
One short hour the heath upon,
When he was nowhere to be seen;
'Where,' said they, 'is William gone?'


Mind not the elder boys' distress;
Let them run, and let them fly.
Their own neglect and giddiness
They are justly suffering by.


William his little basket filled
With his berries ripe and red;
Then, naughty boy, two bees he killed,
Under foot he stamped them dead.


William had coursed them o'er the heath,
After them his steps did wander;
When he was nearly out of breath,
The last bee his foot was under.


A cruel triumph which did not
Last but for a moment's space,
For now he finds that he has got
Out of sight of every face.


What are the berries now to him?
What the bees which he has slain?
Fear now possesses every limb,
He cannot trace his steps again.


The poor bees William had affrighted
In more terror did not haste
Than he from bush to bush, benighted
And alone amid the waste.


Late in the night the child was found:
He who these two bees had crushed
Was lying on the cold damp ground,
Sleep had then his sorrows hushed.


A fever followed from the fright,
And from sleeping in the dew;
He many a day and many a night
Suffered ere he better grew.


His aching limbs while sick he lay
Made him learn the crushed bees' pain;
Oft would he to his mother say,
'I ne'er will kill a bee again.'

poem by Charles LambReport problemRelated quotes
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William, It Was Really Nothing

The rain falls hard on a humdrum town
This town has dragged you down
Oh, the rain falls hard on a humdrum town
This town has dragged you down
Oh, no, and everybodys got to live their life
And God knows Ive got to live mine
God knows Ive got to live mine
William, william it was really nothing
William, william it was really nothing
It was your life ...
How can you stay with a fat girl wholl say :
Oh ! would you like to marry me ?
And if you like you can buy the ring
She doesnt care about anything
Would you like to marry me ?
And if you like you can buy the ring
I dont dream about anyone - except myself !
Oh, william, william it was really nothing
William, william

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Don't talk to me about a man's being able to talk sense; everyone can talk sense. Can he talk nonsense?

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Gay Marriage For William (just For Fun)

this world opens itself to gay marriage
the gay priest presides this solemn marriage
of william to another william
and wilma to another wilma

do you william take william as your spouse
for better or for worse, in sickness and in health
till death do you part?

and william says, yes i do

and so by virtue of the authority vested in my by law
i hereby pronounce you william and william
as spouses

in the presence of your witnesses
wilma and wilma
the groom may now kiss his groom

it is not funny, it can be real as it has become real
nature keeps up with overpopulation
and goes for more copulation
between two same sexes in love with each other's sameness

life is an experiment and so love is an experiment too
love and its quivers
bodies and more bodies warming themselves
hearts fusing as one, how lovely to see?

seriously speaking, in the dark the souls keep on dating
the bodies become so irrelevant, the sexes not important
there is this kiss, this touch, these solvents of our loneliness
these glue and paste that must fill the gap
of our respective emptiness

the same goal the same purpose: we always want to be filled in full

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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Orange And Green Will Carry The Day

Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
'Orange and Green will carry the day.'
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'

Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed
William and James are turned to clay
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,
Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!

Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!

English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
'Orange and Green must carry the day!'
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
'Orange and Green will carry the day!'
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.

poem by Thomas DavisReport problemRelated quotes
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