Related quotes: A cynic is a man...

A cynic is a man who looks at the world with a monocle in his mind's eye.

quote by Carolyn Wells
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

Cynic: Someone who found out there wasn’t any Santa Claus when he was ten and is still upset about it.

James Gould Cozzens in The Cynic’s Dictionary
Submitted by Simona Enache
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No, I was not born with a monocle in my eye.

quote by Conrad Veidt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Poetic And Prophetic

It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.

'I see the holes in shoes.'

And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.

'Those shoes have not been used.
Since many are afraid of walking.
But talk about nonsense,
They choose to do.'

'Lips flap flip flop so much.'

And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.

'Flipping lips lick ears to touch,
With venom spiced and nothing nice to say...
Yet quick to pick from empty pockets.'

It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.
It is poetic and prophetic,
With some tongue in cheek stuff.

'Woe goes the mogul to spend from thieving.
Wishing to steal more.
To take and not to give.
Or...
Sympathize with those begging.'

And...
This could be interpreted,
As comments from a cynic.

'I see the holes in shoes.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is a young toff from The Fens
Who's monocle has a warped lens;
At driving his car
On the straight, he's just par
But boy is he good on the bends.

quote by by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Army: What you join to see the world, meet interesting people – and kill them.

Woody Allen in The Cynic’s Dictionary
Submitted by Simona Enache
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A Lunar Musing

The moon inset itself on the blue of the daytime sky,
Appearing like some fogged-up monocle,
Reminding us of it's ever presence,
But also it's invisibility.
Strikes me it's the same for those with fogged-up minds.

poem by Greg Costello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Town Types No. 28 - Lah-Di-Dah Lane

In the old town traditions - as greybeards will explain
One epic tale immortalises Lah-di-dah Lane,
Clerk to a local wheat-buyer in the railway yard.
Some deemed him just a 'masher,' but a few said 'knowing card'
With his waxed moustache, his monocle, his grey 'hard-hitter' hat,
His braided coat of black 'Berlin,' his lavender cravat,
His buttoned boots and finger-ring and thin Malacca cane
Oh, a sight on pleasant Sundays was our Lah-di-dah Lane.

His manners were meticulous, his smile so softly sweet
That he soon became the butt of every urchin in our street.
But he took their banter calmly, and his brow wore ne'er a frown
Till the bully, Turk Trevanion, caused a scandal in the town.
A loud-mouthed blusterer was Turk, a crude, sardonic lout
Who made a set at Lah-di-dah, but failed to draw him out
Till he used, in ladies' hearing, words both blasphemous and vain:
Then, 'I'll meet you on the wiver flat,' said Lah-di-dah Lane.

Discreetly on that Sabbath day the word was passed about,
Till half the town came to the flat to see poor Lane pass out;
And a few expressed their pity; but the most of them were there
To watch in masculine contempt as, with most tender care
He laid aside his monocle, his grey 'hard-hitter' hat,
His braided coat, his collar and his lavender cravat;
And on the pile he neatly laid his thin Malacca cane.
'Now then, I'll thottle you, you thwine!' lisped Lah-di-dah lane.

Of that Homeric battle townsmen talk with bated breath;
For Lah-di-dah in action proved a streak of sudden death.
His straight lefts and upper-cuts revealed amazing form,
Till Turk, a battered, bleeding wreck, went down before the storm.
Then Lane resumed his monocle, his grey 'hard-hitter' hat,
His collar and his braided coat, his lavender cravat,
And under Turk's incarmined nose wagged his Malacca cane:
'Take that, you bwutal bwawler!' murmured Lah-di-dah Lane.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half The World

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away