You May Also Like / View all maxioms
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant read more
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant wee-things, toddling, stacher thro'
To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee.
For a man's house is his castle.
For a man's house is his castle.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores read more
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel read more
I've read in many a novel, that unless they've souls that
grovel--
Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.
The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door;
The chest read more
The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,
The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door;
The chest contriv'd a double debt to pay,
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that read more
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
read more
To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
