Thus spake zaruthstra Quotes
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“When the full-grown poet came,Out spake pleased Nature (the round impassive globe, with all its shows of day and night,) saying, He is mine;But out spake too the Soul of man, proud, jealous and unreconciled, Nay, he is mine alone;— Then the full-grown poet stood between the two, and took each by the hand;And to-day and ever so stands, as blender, uniter, tightly holding hands,Which he will never release until he reconciles the two,And wholly and joyously blends them.”
Walt Whitman
“He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow“I shall bere your noble fame, for ye spake a grete worde and fulfilled it worshipfully.”
Thomas Malory, Complete Works“We must be free or die who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.”
William Wordsworth“When I was a child I spake as a child I understood as a child I thought as a child but when I became a man I put away childish things.”
Bible“When I was a child I spake as a child I understood as a child I thought as a child but when I became a man I put away childish things.”
Anonymous“Then out spake brave Horatius The captain of the gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods?"”
Macaulay“25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?'26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.'27 And the Lord did not ask him again.”
Neil Gaiman, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch“So spake the enemy of mankind, enclosedIn serpent, inmate bad! and toward EveAddressed his way: not with indented wave,Prone on the ground, as since; but on his rear,Circular base of rising folds, that toweredFold above fold, a surging maze! his headCrested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes;With burnished neck of verdant gold, erectAmidst his circling spires, that on the grassFloated redundant: pleasing was his shapeAnd lovely; never since of serpent-kindLovelier…”
John Milton, Paradise LostAll in One Creative & Marketing Platform to tell stories at scale
