Martin Farquhar Tupper Quotes

Well-timed silence hath more eloquence than speech.

Mind is a kingdom to the man who gathereth his pleasure from ideas.

Search out the wisdom of nature, there is depth in all her doings; she seemeth prodigal of power, yet her rules are the maxims of frugality.

Our cares are all To-day, our joys are all To-day; And in one little word, our life, what is it but--To-day?

If thou art master to thyself, circumstances shall harm thee little.

To be accurate, write; to remember, write; to know thine own mind, write. And a written prayer is a prayer of faith, special, sure, and to be answered.

It is sure to be dark if you shut your eyes.

Ridicule is a weak weapon when pointed at a strong mind; but common people are cowards and dread an empty laugh.

Take the good with the evil, for ye all are pensioners of God, and none may choose or refuse the cup His wisdom mixeth.

Confidence is conqueror of men; victorious both over them and in them; The iron will of one stout heart shall make a thousand quail; A feeble dwarf, dauntlessly resolved, will turn the tide of battle, And rally to a nobler strife the giants that had fled.

God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love.

Lies can destroy, but not create.

A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men.

A man too careful of danger liveth in continual torment, But a cheerful expecter of the best hath a fountain of joy within him.

Never give up! If adversity presses, Providence wisely has mingled the cup, And the best counsel, in all your distresses, Is the stout watchword of "Never give up."

Hatred is the atmosphere of hell.

Love, a brilliant fire, to gladden or consume.

Better is the wrong with sincerity, rather than the right with falsehood.

Love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel man when all the rest had failed. Reason he parries; fear he answers blow for blow; future interest he meets with present pleasure; but love, that sun against whose melting beams the winter cannot stand--that soft subliming slumber which wrestles down the giant, there is not one human being in a million, nor a thousand men in all earth's huge quintillion, whose clay heart is hardened against love.

Extravagance is the rich man's pitfall.

The seeds of first instructions are dropp'd into the deepest furrows.

The pen has shaken nations.

Power is seldom innocent, and envy is the yokefellow of eminence.

Thought paceth like a hoary sage, but imagination hath wings as an eagle.

Labour is good for a man, bracing up his energies to conquest, And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless.