Hilaire Belloc Quotes | Quotes by Hilaire Belloc

The Rich arrived in pairs And also in Rolls Royces; They talked of their affairs In loud and strident voices... The Poor arrived in Fords, Whose features they resembled; They laughed to see so many Lords And Ladies all assembled. The People in Between Looked underdone and harassed, And our of place and mean, And Horribly embarrassed.
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The accursed power which stands on Privilege (And goes with Women, and Champagne and Bridge)
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From quiet homes and first beginning, Out to the undiscovered ends, There's nothing worth the wear of winning, But laughter and the love of friends.
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I shoot the Hippopotamus With bullets made of platinum, Because if I use leaden ones His hide is sure to flatten 'em.
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It is the business of the wealthy man To give employment to the artisan.
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I shoot the Hippopotamus with bullets made of platinum, because if I use the leaden one his hide is sure to flatten em.
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Remote and ineffectual don.
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I'm tired of Love I'm still more tired of Rhyme. But Money gives me pleasure all the time.
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Writing itself is a bad enough trade, rightly held up to ridicule and contempt by the greater part of mankind, and especially by those who do real work, plowing, riding, sailing
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The Politician's corpse was laid away. While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged,...
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I'm tired of Love; I'm still more tired of Rhyme. But money gives me pleasure all the time.
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Loss and possession, Death and life are one. There falls no shadow where There shines no sun.
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All men have an instinct for conflict: at least, all healthy men.
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To walk because it is good for you warps the sould, just as it warps the soul for a man to talk for hire or because he think it his duty.
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It is the best of all trades, to make songs, and the second best to sing them.
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I said to Heart, "How goes it?" Heart replied: "Right as a Ribstone Pippin!" But it lied.
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Money gives me pleasure all the time.
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Is there no Latin word for Tea? Upon my soul, if I had known that I would have let the vulgar stuff alone.
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The moment a man talks to his fellows he begins to lie.
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Great artistic talent in any direction... is hardly inherent to the man. It comes and goes; it is often possessed only for a short phase in his life; it hardly ever colors his character as a whole and has nothing to do with the moral and intellectual stuff of the mind and soul. Many great artists, perhaps most great artists, have been poor fellows indeed, whom to know was to despise.
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When I am dead, I hope it is said, ' His sins were scarlet, but his books were read '.
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All men have an instinct for conflict at least, all healthy men.
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Be at the pains of putting down every single item of expenditure whatsoever every day which could possibly be twisted into a professional expense and remember to lump in all the doubtfuls.
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When friendship disappears then there is a space left open to that awful loneliness of the outside world which is like the cold space between the planets. It is an air in which men perish utterly.
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Just as there is nothing between the admirable omelet and the intolerable, so with autobiography.
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