| "Anger dwells only in the bosom of fools." »Albert Einstein |
| "Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom." »William Pitt |
| "Leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her." »William Shakespeare |
| "The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea." »William Shakespeare |
| "The mere process of growing old together will make the slightest acquaintance seem a bosom friend." »Logan Pearsall Smith |
| "Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry for anger resteth in the bosom of fools." »Ecclesiastes 79 Bible Hebrew |
| "As the moon retaineth her nature, though darkness spread itself before her face as a curtain, so the Soul remaineth perfect even in the bosom of the fool." »Akhenaton |
| "The sage wears clothes of coarse cloth but carries jewels in his bosom He knows himself but does not display himself He loves himself but does not hold himself in high esteem." »Lao Tzu |
| "If you wish success in life, make perseverance your bosom friend, experience your wise counselor, caution your elder brother and hope your guardian genius." »Joseph Addison |
| "Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned So he that goeth in to his neighbor's wife whosoever toucheth her shall not be innocent." »Proverbs 627-9 Bible Hebrew |
| "The principles now planted in thy bosom will grow, and one day reach maturity and in that maturity thou wilt find thy heaven or thy hell." »David Thomas |
| "Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun." »William Shakespeare |
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