Quotes on Fairs

. . . it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself it is needful that you frame the season of your own harvest.

And do so, love, yet when they have devised_x000D_ _x000D_ What strainèd touches rhetoric can lend,_x000D_ _x000D_ Thou, truly fair, wert truly sympathized_x000D_ _x000D_ In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;_x000D_ _x000D_ And their gross painting might be better used_x000D_ _x000D_ Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem_x000D_ _x000D_ For that sweet odour which doth in it live.

She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;_x000D_ _x000D_ She calls me proud, and that she could not love me,_x000D_ _x000D_ Were man as rare as Phoenix.

Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.

Because I cannot flatter and look fair,_x000D_ _x000D_ Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,_x000D_ _x000D_ Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,_x000D_ _x000D_ I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,_x000D_ _x000D_ And young affection gapes to be his heir;_x000D_ _x000D_ That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,_x000D_ _x000D_ With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.

To this urn let those repair_x000D_ _x000D_ That are either true or fair;_x000D_ _x000D_ For these dead birds sigh a prayer.

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.

Of all the fair resort of gentlemen_x000D_ _x000D_ That every day with parle encounter me,_x000D_ _x000D_ In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.

Now the fair goddess, Fortune,_x000D_ _x000D_ Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms_x000D_ _x000D_ Misguide thy opposers' swords!

Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely is made for the eye of one who sees.

It is not fair to ask of others what you are not willing to do yourself.

The day shall not be up so soon as I, _x000D_ To try the fair adventure of tomorrow.

So many writers come to class with one question dominant in their mind, 'How do I make a living from this?' It's a fair enough question and one I always try to answer well- but it saddens me that it so often overshadows the more relevant questions of 'why am I writing' and 'what am I saying' and 'how do I keep it honest.

Hold high the brow serene,_x000D_ O youth, where now you stand;_x000D_ Let the bright sheen_x000D_ Of your grace be seen,_x000D_ Fair hope of my fatherland!

In our dreams we have seen another world, an honest world, a world decidedly more fair than the one in which we now live. We saw that in this world there was no need for armies; peace, justice and liberty were so common that no one talked about them as far-off concepts, but as things such as bread, birds, air, water, like book and voice.

Happy the man, and happy he alone, he who can call today his own: he who, secure within, can say, tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. Be fair or foul or rain or shine, the joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not Heaven itself upon the past has power, but what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair and the Doctor comes to call, everybody lives.

Life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.