C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.
Woe
A world of woes despatched in little space.
Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
He scorns his own who feels another’s woe.
One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, so fast they follow.
My languid numbers have forgot to flow, and fancy sinks beneath a weight of woe.
The grateful tear that streams for others’ woes.
Alas! by some degree of woe we every bliss must gain.
Dependants, friends, relations, love himself, ravaged by woe, forget the tender tie.
It becomes one, while exempt from woes, to look to the dangers.
Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, swells at my heart, and turns the past to pain.
Not suffering, but faint heart, is worst of woes.
O Fortune, how thy restless, wavering state has fraught with cares my troubled wit!
When we our betters see bearing our woes, we scarcely think our miseries our foes.
But I have that within, which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Tell me, when shall these weary woes have end? or shall their ruthless torment never cease?
Wise men ne’er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.
Woe unto you when all men speak well of you.
No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.
My thoughts, imprisoned in my secret woes, with flamy breaths do issue oft in sound.
By woe the soul to daring action steals; by woe in plaintless patience it excels.
Woe for my vine-clad home, that it should ever be so dark to me, with its bright threshold and its whispering tree!