Austin Dobson Quotes

Time goes, you say? Ah, no! Alas, Time stays, we go.

They dwell in the odor of camphor, they stand in a Sheraton shrine, they are "warranted early editions," These worshipful tomes of mine. In their creamiest "Oxford vellum," In their redolent, "crushed Levant," with their delicate watered linings, they are jewels of price, I grant. Blind-tooled and morocco-jointed, they have Zaehnsdorf's daintiest dress, they are graceful, attenuate, polished, but they gather the dust, no less. For the row that I prize is yonder, away on the unglazed shelves, the bulged and the bruised octavos, the dear and the dumpy twelves. Montaigne with his sheepskins blistered, and Howell the worse for wear, and the worm-drilled Jesuits's Horace, and the little old cropped Moliere, and the Burton I bought for a florin, and the Rabelais foxed and flea'd, for the others I never have opened, but those are the books I read.

And the man who plants cabbages imitates too !

I intended an Ode And it turn'd to a Sonnet.

Old books, old wine, old nankin blue-- All things, in short, to which belong The charm, the, grace that Time makes strong, All these I prize, but (entre nous) Old friends are best.

Time goes, you say? Ah, no! Alas, Time stays, we go.

Tis an old dial with many a stain; In summer crowned with drifting orchard bloom, Tricked in the autumn with the yellow rain, And white in winter like a marble tomb. And round about its gray, time-eaten brow Lean letters speak - a worn and shattered row: I am a Shade: A Shadowe too arte thou: I marke the Time: saye, Gossip, dost thou soe?

'Time goes, you say ? An no ! Alas, Time stays, we go.

Rose kissed me today. Will she kiss me tomorrow? Let it be as it may, Rose kissed me today.