Breasts Quotes - Page 18

• If the soup had been as warm as the wine;
  if the wine had been as old as the turkey;
  and if the turkey had had a breast like the maid,
  it would have been a swell dinner.

  Duncan Hines

  Food, Wine, Turkeys

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• I consider Madonna a friend, and she sure knows how to work the publicity machine. Of course, I don't have breasts. If I did have, I'd be in the number one spot over Madonna.

  Spike Lee

  Numbers, Publicity, Machines

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• Together, we can put the brakes on breast cancer.

  Danica Patrick

  Cancer, Together We Can, Brake

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• 'I'm sorry,' guys are always telling women, 'but I'm just not ready to make a commitment.' Guys are in a permanent state of nonreadiness. If guys were turkey breasts, you could put them in a 350-degree oven on July Fourth, and they still wouldn't be done in time for Thanksgiving.

  Dave Barry

  Sorry, Commitment, July

  Dave Barry (2010). “Dave Barry's Complete Guide to Guys”, p.87, Ballantine Books

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• A sermon often does a man most good when it makes him most angry. Those people who walk down the aisles and say, "I will never hear that man again," very often have an arrow rankling in their breast.

  Charles Spurgeon

  Men, Arrows, People

  Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1988). “Spurgeon at His Best: Over 2200 Striking Quotations from the World's Most Exhaustive and Widely-read Sermon Series”, Baker Publishing Group

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• Alas, that we should be so unwilling to listen to the still and holy yearnings of the heart! A god whispers quite softly in our breast, softly yet audibly; telling us what we ought to seek and what to shun.

  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  Heart, Holy, Should

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• Woe to falsehood! it affords no relief to the breast, like truth; it gives us no comfort, pains him who forges it, and like an arrow directed by a god flies back and wounds the archer.

  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  Pain, Archer, Arrows

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• It is a true observation of ancient writers, that as men are apt to be cast down by adversity, so they, are easily satiated with prosperity, and that joy and grief produce the same effects. For whenever men are not obliged by necessity to fight they fight from ambition, which is so powerful a passion in the human breast that however high we reach we are never satisfied.

  Niccolo Machiavelli

  Powerful, Grief, Ambition

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• Cruelty, very far from being a vice, is the first sentiment Nature injects in us all. The infant breaks his toy, bites his nurse's breast, strangles his canary long before he is able to reason; cruelty is stamped in animals, in whom, as I think I have said, Nature's laws are more emphatically to be read than in ourselves; cruelty exists amongst savages, so much nearer to Nature than civilized men are; absurd then to maintain cruelty is a consequence of depravity. . . . Cruelty is simply the energy in a man civilization has not yet altogether corrupted: therefore it is a virtue, not a vice.

  Marquis de Sade

  Men, Thinking, Animal

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• The breast of a good man is a little heaven commencing on earth; where the Deity sits enthroned with unrivaled influence, every subjugated passion, "like the wind and storm, fulfilling his word.

  Charles Caleb Colton

  Passion, Men, Wind

  Charles Caleb Colton (1832). “Lacon: Or Many Things in Few Words, Addressed to Those who Think”, p.36

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• The plainest man that can convince a woman that he is really in love with her has done more to make her in love with him than the handsomest man, if he can produce no such conviction. For the love of woman is a shoot, not a seed, and flourishes most vigorously only when ingrafted on that love which is rooted in the breast of another.

  Charles Caleb Colton

  Love, Men, Done

  Charles Caleb Colton (1825). “Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words : Addressed to Those who Think”, p.10

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• Don't talk to me about gravity. When I get out of bed in the morning, I have to be careful not to step on my breasts.

  Joan Rivers

  Morning, Bed, Body

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• War! war! war!
  Heaven aid the right!
  God move the hero's arm in the fearful fight!
  God send the women sleep in the long, long night,
  When the breasts on whose strength they leaned shall heave no more.

  Edmund Clarence Stedman

  War, Hero, Moving

  Edmund Clarence Stedman (1873). “The Poetical Works of Edmund Clarence Stedman”, p.111

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• The wind has a language, I would I could learn!
  Sometimes 'tis soothing, and sometimes 'tis stern,
  Sometimes it comes like a low sweet song,
  And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along,
  And the forest is lull'd by the dreamy strain,
  And slumber sinks down on the wandering main,
  And its crystal arms are folded in rest,
  And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.

  Letitia Elizabeth Landon

  Song, Sweet, Sleep

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• Nature, they say, doth dote,
  And cannot make a man
  Save on some worn-out plan
  Repeating us by rote:
  For him her Old World moulds aside she threw
  And, choosing sweet clay from the breast
  Of the unexhausted West,
  With stuff untainted shaped a hero new.

  James Russell Lowell

  Sweet, Hero, Men

  James Russell Lowell (1871). “The poetical works of James Russell Lowell”, p.431

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• The New World's sons from England's breast we drew
  Such milk as bids remember whence we came,
  Proud of her past wherefrom our future grew,
  This window we inscribe with Raleigh's fame.

  James Russell Lowell

  Son, Past, World

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• As the mind of each man is conscious of good or evil, so does he conceive within his breast hope or fear, according to his actions.

  Ovid

  Men, Evil, Mind

  Ovid (1851). “The Fasti ; Tristia ; Pontic epistles ; Ibis ; and Halieuticon of Ovid”, p.31

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• The raven once in snowy plumes was drest,
  White as the whitest dove's unsullied breast,
  Fair as the guardian of the Capitol,
  Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl
  His tongue, his prating tongue had changed him quite
  To sooty blackness from the purest white.

  Ovid

  Ravens, White, Swans

  Ovid (1833). “Ovid”, p.56

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• Guilt once harbored in the conscious breast, intimidates the brave, degrades the great.

  Samuel Johnson

  Brave, Guilt, Intimidating

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• Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd;
  Or dealt by chance to shield a lucky knave,
  Or throw a cruel sunshine on a fool.
  But for one end, one much-neglected use,
  Are riches worth your care; (for nature's wants
  Are few, and without opulence supplied;)
  This noble end is, to produce the soul;
  To show the virtues in their fairest light;
  To make humanity the minister
  Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast
  The generous luxury the gods enjoy.

  John Armstrong

  Sunshine, Light, Luxury

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• This is what art is all about. It is weaving fabric from the feathers you have plucked from your own breast. But no one must ever see the process - only the finished bolt of goods. They must never suspect that that crimson thread running through the pattern is blood.

  Katherine Paterson

  Running, Art, Blood

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• Sorrow, the heart must bear,
  Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there.
  Many a circumstance, at least,
  Touches the very breast.
  For those
  Whom any sent away,--he knows:
  And in the live man's stead,
  Armor and ashes reach
  The house of each.

  Robert Browning

  Home, Heart, Men

  Robert Browning (2008). “The Agamemnon of Aeschylus, La Saisiaz, Etc.”, p.15, Wildside Press LLC

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• No thought which ever stirred
  A human breast should be untold.

  Robert Browning

  Should, Humans

  Robert Browning (2015). “Complete Plays of Robert Browning”, p.146, e-artnow sro

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• If one must be rejected, one succeed, make him my lord within whose faithful breast is fixed my image, and who loves me best.

  John Dryden

  Faithful, Succeed, Lord

  John Dryden (1854). “Poetical Works”, p.13

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• Trust me no tortures which the poets feign
  Can match the fierce unutterable pain
  He feels, who night and day devoid of rest
  Carries his own accuser in his breast.

  Juvenal

  Pain, Night, Fierce

  Juvenal (1871). “The satires of Juvenal, Persius, Sulpicia, and Lucilius ...”, p.470

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