A Quote by William Cowper

All affectation; 'tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust. — © William Cowper
All affectation; 'tis my perfect scorn; Object of my implacable disgust.
In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that ministers, And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn: Object of my implacable disgust.
Oh, 'tis not my qualities they object to! 'Tis my lack of vice.
Implacable I, the implacable Sea; Implacable most when most I smile serene- Pleased, not appeased, by myriad wrecks in me.
An audience is the perfect thing to unleash venom and hate on. It doesn't necessarily mean you hate everyone in the audience but when you've got a so-called adoring mass in front of you, it's a perfect target for that kind of disgust. Sometimes you find yourself in a position where you're venting your disgust on an audience and a lot of them keep coming back 'cos they actually like that aspect. In a way that diffuses the feeling and you don't gel the same release.
Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.
Increasingly, Christianity is the object of scorn and ridicule.
The thing I longed for as a teenager is now an object of neglect and scorn. I've grown to hate my telephone.
Affliction hardens and discourages us because, like a red hot iron, it stamps the soul to its very depths with the scorn, the disgust, and even the self-hatred and sense of guilt that crime logically should produce but actually does not.
I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.
Silence is the most perfect expression of scorn.
Tis well to borrow from the good and the great; 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create!
Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
My love is of a birth as rare As 'tis, for object, strange and high; It was begotten by Despair Upon Impossibility.
Affectation is to be always distinguished from hypocrisy as being the art of counterfeiting those qualities, which we might with innocence and safety, be known to want. Hypocrisy is the necessary burden of villainy; affectation part of the chosen trappings of folly.
This is what I say about the scorn of the media elite: I wear their scorn as a badge of honor.
The more perfect the sight is the more delightful the beautiful object. The more perfect the appetite, the sweeter the food. The more musical the ear, the more pleasant the melody. The more perfect the soul, the more joyous the joys of heaven, and the more glorious that glory.
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