brides

A Quote by Winnifred C. Jardine on brides, husbands, motherhood, questions, and wives

I like the story of the newlywed who served ham for her first Sunday dinner. The husband noticed the ends of the ham had been cut off and he asked why. "That's the way my mother always did it," the bride replied with a shrug. He asked his wife's mother the same question and got the same answer, "That's the way my mother did it." Finally he asked the grandma, who replied, "That's the only way I could get it into the pan."

Winnifred C. Jardine

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Wordsworth on brides, children, hope, and society

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)

Source: The Excursion. Book iii.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by unknown on brides

in

Is more fuss made about what the bride is married in than what she is married to?

unknown

Source: Albert W. Daw Collection

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by unknown on brides, motherhood, and trouble

Bride: "Now I have come to the end of all my troubles." Mother: "Yes, but you don't know which end."

unknown

Source: Albert W. Daw Collection

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Thomas D'Urfey on brides, darkness, devil, flirting, heart, home, justice, love, and starting

When for Air I take my Mare When for Air I take my Mare, And mount her first, She walks just thus, Her Head held low, And Motion slow; With Nodding, Plodding, Wagging, Jogging, Dashing, Plashing, Snorting, Starting, Whimsically she goes: Then Whip stirs up, Trot, Trot, Trot; Ambling then with easy slight, She riggles like a Bride at Night; Her shuffling hitch, Regales my Britch; Whilst Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Brings on the Gallop, The Gallop, the Gallop, The Gallop, and then a short Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Straight again up and down, Up and down, up and down, Till she comes home with a Trott, When Night dark grows. Just so Phillis, Fair as Lillies, As her Face is, Has her Paces; And in Bed too, Like my Pad too; Nodding, Plodding, Wagging, Jogging, Dashing, Plashing, Flirting, Spirting, Artful are all her ways: Heart thumps pitt, patt, Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott: Ambling, then her Tongue gets loose, Whilst wrigling near I press more close: Ye Devil she crys, I'll tear your Eyes, When Main seiz'd, Bum squeez'd, I Gallop, I Gallop, I Gallop, I Gallop, And Trott, Trott, Trott, Trott, Streight again up and down, Up and down, up and down, Till the last Jerk with a Trot, Ends our Love Chase.

Thomas D'Urfey (1653 - 1723)

Source: Pills to Purge Melancholy, 1719

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Susanna Blamire on brides

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And ye sall walk in silk attire, And siller hae to spare, Gin ye'll consent to be his bride, Nor think o' Donald mair.

Susanna Blamire (1747 - 1794)

Source: The Siller Croun.

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Sir Walter Scott on brides, children, day, death, earth, emotion, motherhood, weakness, weather, wives, world, and youth

Upon the death of his wife: May 16 [1826]- She died at nine in the morning, after being ill for two days-easy at last. I arrived here late last night. For myself, I scarce know how I feel - sometimes as firm as the Bass Rock, sometimes as weak as the waters that break on it. . . . May 18- Another day, and a bright one to the external world, again opens on us; the air soft, and the flowers smiling, and the leaves glittering. They cannot refresh her to whom mild weather was a natural enjoyment. Cerements of lead and wood already hold her; cold earth must have her soon. But it is not my Charlotte, it is not the bride of my youth, the mother of my children, that will be laid among the ruins of Cryburgh, which we have so often visited in gaiety and pastime. No, no. She is sentient and conscious of my emotions somewhere- somehow; where we cannot tell - how we cannot tell; yet would I not this moment renounce her in a better world, for all that this world can give me.

Sir Walter Scott (1771 - 1832)

Source: journal

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Phyllis McGinley on borrowing, brides, children, christianity, fame, family, fatherhood, faults, generosity, gold, hunger, love, luck, motherhood, patience, poetry, problems, relatives, saints, sharing, sister, soul, thinking, and wine

The subject of the poem was Bridget of Kildare (450-523), a Christian lass among the Druids in Ireland. Saint Bridget was A problem child. Although a lass Demure and mild, And one who strove To please her dad, Saint Bridget drove The family mad. For here's the fault in Bridget lay: She WOULD give everything away. To any soul Whose luck was out She'd give her bowl Of stirabout; She'd give her shawl, Divide her purse With one or all. And what was worse, When she ran out of things to give She'd borrow from a relative. Her father's gold, Her grandsire's dinner, She'd hand to cold and hungry sinner; Give wine, give meat, No matter whose; Take from her feet The very shoes, And when her shoes had gone to others, Fetch forth her sister's and her mother's. She could not quit. She had to share; Gave bit by bit The silverware, The barnyard geese, The parlor rug, Her little niece-'s christening mug, Even her bed to those in want, And then the mattress of her aunt. An easy touch For poor and lowly, She gave so much And grew so holy That when she died Of years and fame, The countryside Put on her name, And still the Isles of Erin fidget With generous girls named Bride or Bridget. Well, one must love her. Nonetheless, In thinking of her Givingness, There's no denial She must have been A sort of trial Unto her kin. The moral, too, seems rather quaint. WHO had the patience of a saint, From evidence presented here? Saint Bridget? Or her near and dear?

Phyllis McGinley (1905 - 1978)

Source: "The Giveaway," from The Love Letters ofd Phyllis McGinley, New York, Viking Press, 1957

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Lyman Littlefield on adversity, affection, angels, blush, brides, charm, circumstances, crime, earth, evolution, existence, fatherhood, fortune, grace, health, heart, justice, kindness, life, mortality, motherhood, science, seasons, time, trus

The proudest monarch that ever wore a crown, or the most illustrious commander whose fortune it has been to subjugate empires, are melted into contrition when she who nursed the incipient fires of his mortal existence is passing from earth to be hidden from his gaze through the appointed seasons of revolving time. Even the obdurate and depraved turn to her with reverence, and though crime may have placed his feet upon the scaffold where his offense is to be expiated, yet even there the obdurate heart melts into contrition as regretful recollections crowd his bosom that his life had not been molded by the plastic hand of a mother's watchfulness and the words of gentle admonition that fell from her lips. We reverence father for his protection and justice, for sheltering abodes that have secured us from the pelting storms, for his continued kindness as we grow from infancy to manhood, for his wise counsels and expenditure of means, perhaps to polish and refine us with educational science, but through all these bestowments the mother's vigilance has been co-equal, and through all she has ministered as the guardian angel of our existence. Her gentle hand is remembered in every circumstance and condition that has intervened. In health she has spoken kindly congratulations and in sickness has patiently watched through the midnight vigils to bathe the burning brow and still the raging pulse with grateful emollients. She moves in a sphere where unselfish affection holds dominion and wins its votaries by the charms of gentleness and grace, which draw upon the most enduring sensibilities evolved in the bosom of mortals. The adoration that may be revealed in the responsive blushes that glow upon a maiden's cheek, may be more impulsive and brilliant, but cannot be more lasting or conducive to the perpetuity of more substantial benefits. The holy flame of a mother's devotion will burn on undiminished in its brightness, while that of the trusted bride and bridegroom may wane and be extinguished upon the bleak shores swept by the unwelcome winds of adversity.

Lyman Littlefield

Source: Lyman Littlefield Reminiscences (1888), p.135 - p.136

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Lord Lyttleton on brides and wives

How much the wife is dearer than the bride.

Lord Lyttleton (1709 - 1773)

Source: An Irregular Ode.

Contributed by: Zaady

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