Explore popular quotes and sayings by a Scottish novelist James Hogg.
Last updated on November 8, 2024.
James Hogg was a Scottish poet, novelist and essayist who wrote in both Scots and English. As a young man he worked as a shepherd and farmhand, and was largely self-educated through reading. He was a friend of many of the great writers of his day, including Sir Walter Scott, of whom he later wrote an unauthorised biography. He became widely known as the "Ettrick Shepherd", a nickname under which some of his works were published, and the character name he was given in the widely read series Noctes Ambrosianae, published in Blackwood's Magazine. He is best known today for his novel The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner. His other works include the long poem The Queen's Wake (1813), his collection of songs Jacobite Relics (1819), and his two novels The Three Perils of Man (1822), and The Three Perils of Woman (1823).
He was scarcely then a year old, and knew so little of herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life; but as soon as he discovered it was his duty to do so I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his different evolutions.
A shepherd may be a very able, trusty, and good shepherd, without a sweetheart - better, perhaps, than with one. But what is he without his dog?
Without the shepherd's dog, the whole of the open mountainous land in Scotland would not be worth a sixpence.
It would require more hands to manage a stock of sheep, gather them from the hills, force them into houses and folds, and drive them to markets, than the profits of the whole stock were capable of maintaining.
The charge was left entirely to himself from midnight until the rising of the sun; and if all the shepherds in the Forest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have effected it with greater propriety.
He had one uniform practice, and a very bad one it was, during the time of family worship, and just three or four seconds before the conclusion of the prayer, he started to his feet, and ran barking round the apartment like a crazed beast.
O, love, love, love!
Love is like a dizziness;
It winna let a poor body
Gang about his biziness!
A shepherd may be a very able, trusty, and good shepherd, without a sweetheart-better, perhaps, than with one. But what is he without his dog?
If a body could just find oot the exac' proper proportion and quantity that ought to be drunk every day, and keep to that, I verily trow that he might leeve for ever, without dying at a', and that doctors and kirkyards would og oot o' fashion.
Nothing in the world delights a truly religious people so much as consigning them to eternal damnation.
What is the life of a man more than the life of a lamb, or any guiltless animal?
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place O, to abide in the desert with thee!
The daisy is fair, the day-lily rare, The bud o' the rose as sweet as it's bonnie.
Man mind yoursel is the first commandment.
Oh, why should vows so fondly made, Be broken ere the morrow, To one who loves as never maid Loved in this world of sorrow?
That undefined and mingled hum, Voice of the desert never dumb!