Thomas Hood (23 May 1799 – 3 May 1845) was a British humorist and poet. His son, Tom Hood, became a well known playwright and editor. Read full biography of Thomas Hood →
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence.
To attempt to advise conceited people is like whistling against the wind.
Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
There are three things which the public will always clamor for, sooner or later: namely, novelty, novelty, novelty.
Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.
There is even a happiness - that makes the heart afraid.
A moment's thinking is an hour in words.
That a man be willing, when others are so too, as far forth as for peace and defence of himself he shall think it necessary, to lay down this right... →
Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
'Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.
The best of friends fall out, and so his teeth had done some years ago.
Thomas Hood (23 May 1799 – 3 May 1845) was a British humorist and poet. His son, Tom Hood, became a well known playwright and editor.