Quotes by William Chambers

“Mohammed? Are you kidding? He was dreamed up by the Mecca Chamber of Commerce.””

“To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;”

“the love had grown cold, and in the night he heard it whistling through the chambers of his heart like a lost and gently crying wind.””

“Haply for I am black,And have not those soft parts of conversationThat chamberers have; or for I am declinedInto the vale of years”

“THERE are so many things which are impossible to explain! Why should certain chords in music make me think of the brown and golden tints of autumn foliage? Why should the Mass of Sainte-Cécile send my thoughts wandering among caverns whose walls blaze with ragged masses of virgin silver? What was it in the roar and turmoil of Broadway at six o'clock that flashed before my eyes the picture of a still Breton forest where sunlight filtered through spring foliage, and Sylvia bent, half curiously, half tenderly, over a small, green lizard, murmuring, "To think that this also is a little ward of God?””

“Standing on your own feet, naturally, is as tiresome and dangerous as standing your ground; and when the wild dogs begin to circle grinning round you with their dripping tongues hanging out and you know that with mock servility they like to go for your toes first, why, then, you should stand on someone else’s feet, or head if necessary. It is a point of faith for me never to be Hitler; he stood his ground in his own two shoes in his own little hole almost to the end, the fool. But I may disguise myself as any other animate or inanimate object in what follows. I can be eight lame women with falsies, eight cracked chamber pots, or -- let’s get right to the point -- a gladiator who is actually constructed of old clothes, brooms, and a paper plate with a face daubed on in finger-paints, not to mention two vagrants inside each shirt-sleeve and pant-leg, moving Goliath’s limbs at my say-so; but as long as you believe in the gladiator, you are whipped, and the Museum people will set out on your track, and then once they catch you, don’t think I won’t come study your exhibit until I can convince your own sweetheart that I am you come back from the dead. For I am Big George, the eternal winner.””

“Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.””

“Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East,The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceas'd;Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair, Or the green corners of the earth,Or the blue regions of the air, Where the melodious winds have birth;Whether on crystal rocks ye rove, Beneath the bosom of the seaWand'ring in many a coral grove, Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoy'd in you!The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forc'd, the notes are few!- "To the Muses””