The woman that deliberates is lost.
What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninetyand nine in the wilderness, andgoafter that whichislost, until hefind it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy name: thosethatthougavest me Ihave kept, and noneof them is lost, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled.
'Father! father! where are you going? O do not walk so fast. Speak, father, speak to your little boy, Or else I shall be lost.'
'Tis better to have fought and lost, Than never to have fought at all. SeeTennyson 843:34.
Ce qu'on donne a' l'amour est a' jamais perdu. What one gives in love is forever lost.
We were so clos'd within each other's breasts The rivets were not found that join'd us first. That does not reach us yet: we were so mix'd, As meeting streams, both to ourselves were lost; We were one mass; we could not give or take, But from the same; for he was I, I he!
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss. For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
Poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.
The principles of a free constitution are irrevocably lost when the legislative power is nominated by the executive.
But there's no love lost between us.
You lost yourability for doing things in childhood It all beganwithyourinability toputonyoursocksand ended by your inability to live.
If women understand by emancipation the adoption of the masculine role then we are lost indeed.
What aterrifying reflection it is, by theway, that nearlyall our deep love for women who are not our kindred dependsat any rate, in the first instanceupon their personal appearances. If we lost them, and found them again dreadful to look on, though otherwise they were the very same, should we still love them?
Bees are sometimes drowned in the honey which they collectso some writers are lost in their collected learning.
When one has had all his conceit taken out of him, when he has lost all his illusions, his feathers will soon soak through, and he will fly no more.
Something there had been, something delicate, wild and far away. But it was shut out behind the doors of yesterday, lost beyond the hills.
Try to be one of the people on whom nothing is lost!
Sir, I look upon every day to be lost, in which I do not make a new acquaintance.
Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job.
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way, Baa! Baa! Baa! We're little black sheep who've gone astray, Baa-aa-aa! Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree, Damned from here to eternity, God ha'mercy on such as we, Baa! Yah! Bah!
So right.OK.We lost.
Now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain Torments him.
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.
One more such victory, and we are lost!
For when the One Great Scorer comes To write against your name, He marksnot that you won or lost But how you played the game.
Was man nicht aufgibt, hat man nie verloren. What is not abandoned is never completely lost.
Hidden in wonder and snow, or sudden with summer, This land stares at the sun in a huge silence Endlessly repeating something we cannot hear. Inarticulate, arctic, Not written on by history, emptyas paper, It leans away from the world with songs in its lakes Older than love, and lost in the miles. 722
The woodland brook he bounding crossed, And laughed, and shouted,'Lost! lost! lost!'
This rortie wretched city Sair come down frae its auld hiechts The hauf o't smug, complacent, Lost til all pride of race or spirit, The tither wild and rouch as ever In its secret hairt But lost alsweill, the smeddum tane, The man o'independent mind has cap in hand the day Sits on its craggy spine And drees the wind and rain That nourished all its genius Weary wi centuries This empty capital snorts like a great beast Caged in its sleep, dreaming of freedom.
You are all a lost generation.
Oh my grief, I've lost him surely. I've lost the only Playboy of the Western World.
I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
Prompt me,God, But not yet.When I speak Though it be you who speak Through me, something is lost. The meaning is the waiting.
It is better to have loafed and lost than never to have loafed at all.
Virtue knows to a farthing what it has lost by not being vice.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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