Skip to content

Each for himself, we all sustain
The durance of our ghostly pain;
Then to Elysium we repair,
The few, and breathe this blissful air.

— John Conington The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

Another quote →

More quotes by John Conington

Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may;
With life so short 'twere wrong to lose a day.

The Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace (1869)

Blest pair! if aught my verse avail,
No day shall make your memory fail
From off the heart of time.

The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

O Fortune, cruellest of heavenly powers,
Why make such game of this poor life of ours?

The Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace (1869)

Blank verse really deserving the name I believe to be impossible except to one or two eminent writers in a generation.

E'en here the tear of pity springs,
And hearts are touched by human things.

The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

All John Conington quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: John Conington (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.