Author of quotes: Washington Irving. Page 2

Half the battle - the climate, the rest of the temperament. Give the Spaniard in the summer shade, winter sun, a crust of bread, a head of garlic, a tablespoon of olive oil, a handful of peas, well-worn brown cloak and a guitar - and he was uneasy. Think of it, poverty! He knows that poverty is not a Vice. Poverty over his face like a tattered cloak. Though in rags, and all of Hidalgo.

I admit, I don't know what actually precipitated way and in the end win a woman's heart. For me it always remained a mystery and a subject of genuine admiration. Sometimes the heart is has some vulnerable spot, in other words, would the front door, while other hearts are thousands of ways, so to master them you can use thousands of ways. Victory over the first - the greatest triumph of skill and ingenuity, but the Supreme proof of the strategic talent is the ability to hold power over the second, because then men have to fight for the fortress at every gate and every loopholes.

Hearing from him that there is no need to worry, they, as befits intelligent women immediately began to panic.

Marital nagabuchi best preaching in the world teaches man the virtue of patience and obedience. That's why a nagging wife in some respects can be considered the blessing of heaven...

Love this flour for one, happiness for two, and discord and enmity for three.

There is nothing richer than the imagination of a beggar.

A woman's whole life is a history of the affections.
A woman's whole life is a history of her affections.

Who thinks a lot, he says little, trying to cram many thoughts into few words.

In this world the only one happy author who cares about his reputation.

His worthy wife was a bit busy household and bird's yard, for she judged, and, admittedly, quite wisely, that ducks and geese - crazy people in need of supervision, whereas girls are able to take care of themselves.

Great minds have goals, other people follow their desires.

Against the devil with all his antics Ichabod crane would have lived, probably, a relaxed and happy life, not it met in its path the creature, delivering a mortal infinitely more trouble and torment than spirits, ghosts, and the whole breed of wizards and sorcerers together. This creature was a woman.

A bad temper is never softened with age and a sharp tongue is the only all cutting tools, which not only dulled by constant use, but, on the contrary, is getting worse and worse.

Tears are sacred. They are not a sign of weakness but of strength. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love.
(In tears there is something sacred, they are messengers not of weakness, but of power, they talk about the unbearable grief and unfathomable love.)