A Quote by Edmund Waller

Lampoons, like squibs, may make a present blaze; but time and thunder pay respect to bays. — © Edmund Waller
Lampoons, like squibs, may make a present blaze; but time and thunder pay respect to bays.
There would be a blaze and a confusion, in which timid men would doubt whether the constitution would be burned to tinder or only illuminated; but that blaze and that confusion would be dear to Mr. Daubney if he could stand as the centre figure, the great pyrotechnist who did it all, red from head to foot with the glare of the squibs with which his own hands were filling all the spaces.
In the present state of the world it is difficult not to write lampoons.
I remember the first time I heard 'The Thunder Rolls.' It was dark, and we were driving to the beach. There was the thunder outside and the thunder in the song. It was eerie.
Consider how august a privilege it is, when angels are present, and archangels throng around, when cherubim and seraphim encircle with their blaze the throne, that a mortal may approach with unrestrained confidence, and converse with heaven's dread Sovereign! O, what honor was ever conferred like this?
Now and then there comes a crash of thunder in a storm, and we look up with amazement when he sets the heavens on a blaze with his lightning.
We may make our future by the best use of the present. There is no moment like the present.
Johnny Blaze was my character at OVW. I had all these fancy fire catchphrases: 'Call the fire department,' 'Get your fire extinguishers out, ladies.' 'By the time you hear the thunder, it's going to be too late because the lightning will have already struck.' That was all my thing.
My theory is that poems are written because of a state of emotional irritation. It may be present for some time before the poet is conscious of what is tormenting him. The emotional irritation springs, probably, from subconscious combinations of partly forgotten thoughts and feelings. Coming together, like electrical currents in a thunder storm, they produce a poem. ... the poem is written to free the poet from an emotional burden.
I may not get the opportunity to make movies for my whole life, but I'm going to make movies for the rest of my life. Maybe studios won't pay for it, but I'm going to do it because I love it. So, I just have to be proud of what I make, and what I'm trying to say in what I make. If people don't like it or people don't see it, that's beyond what I can control. I'm a storyteller, and people are going to listen or not and like it or not. That's only solidified over time.
Man cannot call the brimming instant back; Time's an affair of instants spun to days; If man must make an instant gold, or black, Let him, he may; but Time must go his ways. Life may be duller for an instant's blaze. Life's an affair of instants spun to years, Instants are only cause of all these tears.
You may have the right to live anyway you like, but you don't have a right to have other people like it. Respect it or pay for it.
did you ever see anybody so disgusting: said lightning to thunder, "never" thunder growled thunder, "lets give him the works
We have very beautiful bad weather here at present - rain, wind, thunder - but with splendid effects; that's why I like it.
I'm a King. Regardless of what I've been through and what I've done, I present myself as a King. And I get that respect from people, from everybody I deal with. I worked my whole life to establish that respect and make sure I get that respect.
Our religion keeps reminding us that we aren't just will and thoughts. We're also sand and wind and thunder. Rain. The seasons. All those things. You learn to respect everything because you are everything. If you respect yourself, you respect all things.
Don't wait for a funeral to pay a compliment. You may not make it in time.
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