You May Also Like / View all maxioms
And it came to pass, when all that knew him beforetime saw that,
behold, he prophesied among the prophets, read more
And it came to pass, when all that knew him beforetime saw that,
behold, he prophesied among the prophets, then the people said
one to another, What is this that is come unto the son of Kish?
Is Saul also among the prophets?
Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that read more
Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast;
Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so."
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
read more
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
My gran'ther's rule was safer 'n 't is to crow:
Don't never prophesy--onless ye know.
My gran'ther's rule was safer 'n 't is to crow:
Don't never prophesy--onless ye know.
From hence, no question, has sprung an observation
. . . confirmed now into a settled opinion, that some read more
From hence, no question, has sprung an observation
. . . confirmed now into a settled opinion, that some long
experienced souls in the world, before their dislodging, arrive
to the height of prophetic spirit.
And they were offended in him. But Jesus said unto them, A
prophet is not without honour, save in read more
And they were offended in him. But Jesus said unto them, A
prophet is not without honour, save in his own country, and in
his own house.
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word;
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of read more
Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word;
And in its hollow tones are heard
The thanks of millions yet to be.
A tunnel underneath the sea from Calais straight to Dover, Sir,
The squeamish folks may cross by land from read more
A tunnel underneath the sea from Calais straight to Dover, Sir,
The squeamish folks may cross by land from shore to shore,
With sluices made to drown the French, if e'er they would come
over, Sir,
Has long been talk'd of, till at length 'tis thought a monstrous
bore.