A Quote by Sophie Swetchine

In this world of change naught which comes stays and naught which goes is lost.

Sophie Swetchine

Quote Topics

Change Goes Lost Naught Stays This World Which World

Quote Author

Sophie Swetchine
Russian - Author
1782 - 1857

That which is alive hath known death, and that which is dead can never die, for in the Circle of the Spirit life is naught and death is naught. Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.

H. Rider Haggard

Fear, true fear, is a savage frenzy. Of all the insanities of which we are capable, it is surely the cruelest. There is naught to equal its drive, and naught can survive its thrust.

Georges Bernanos

The sum of things there is no power can change, For naught exists outside, to which can flee Out of the world matter of any kind, Nor forth from which a fresh supply can spring, Break in upon the founded world, and change Whole nature of things, and turn their motions about.

Lucretius

In this world of change, nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost.

Sophie Swetchine

Solitude is naught and society is naught. Alternate them and the good of each is seen.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.

James Beattie

My mother used to always say to me, 'Do naught, get naught.' It's an adage that I hold by. If you don't do anything, you can't really expect anything.

Peter Hook

I tell you naught for your comfort, Yea, naught for your desire, Save that the sky grows darker yet And the sea rises higher.

Gilbert K. Chesterton

O visionary world, condition strange, Where naught abiding is but only change.

James Russell Lowell

Far must thy researches go Wouldst thou learn the world to know; Thou must tempt the dark abyss Wouldst thou prove what Being is; Naught but firmness gains the prize, Naught but fullness makes us wise, Buried deep truth e'er lies.

Friedrich Schiller

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

Khalil Gibran

Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents' beds, unerringly I rush! Naught's an obstacle, naught's an angle to the iron way!