Best 75 quotes in «disgrace quotes» category

My character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied.

No one can disgrace us but ourselves.

Poverty is not a disgrace, but it's terribly inconvenient.

Poverty is no disgrace to a man, but it is confoundedly inconvenient.

Same sex marriage is a disgrace to the nation and to God. When I was growing up, ‘ungqingili’ [homosexuals in isiZulu] could not stand in front of me, I would knock him out.

Praise and disgrace cause fear.

Sentiment is a disgrace, instead of an ornament, unless it lead us to good actions.

Success in war was the only success that counted; failure was a disgrace to be wiped out only by starting another war and winning it.

The Canadians have managed to live peacefully with their Indians. It is disgrace that the United States has not done the same.

There's no disgrace in failing, lad, Though friends and foes deride; In fact, a failure's not so bad As never having tried.

Revenue and wealth do not bring disgrace.

The coming of honor or disgrace must be a reflection of one's inner power.

There is no disgrace in peace. There can never be dishonor in peace.

Those who are content suffer no disgrace.

To him who disgraces his family life is no life, and to such a person there is no one a friend, neither while living nor when dead.

To have once been a criminal is no disgrace. To remain a criminal is the disgrace

To what will love not stoop!

To stumble twice against the same stone, is a proverbsial disgrace.

Work is no disgrace: it is idleness which is a disgrace.

To stumble twice against the same stone, is a proverbial disgrace. [Lat., Culpa enim illa, bis ad eundem, vulgari reprehensa proverbio est.]

We have the disgrace of racial discrimination, or we have prejudice against people because of their religion. We have not had the courage to uproot these things, although we know they are wrong.

Your name is the most important thing you own. Don't ever do anything to disgrace or cheapen it.

After you have done a great thing for a great glory, sit and think and understand the journey thereon, for a little mistake can erase a great glory!

America is the wealthiest nation on Earth, but its people are mainly poor, and poor Americans are urged to hate themselves. To quote the American humorist Kin Hubbard, 'It ain’t no disgrace to be poor, but it might as well be.' It is in fact a crime for an American to be poor, even though America is a nation of poor. Every other nation has folk traditions of men who were poor but extremely wise and virtuous, and therefore more estimable than anyone with power and gold. No such tales are told by the American poor. They mock themselves and glorify their betters. The meanest eating or drinking establishment, owned by a man who is himself poor, is very likely to have a sign on its wall asking this cruel question: 'if you’re so smart, why ain’t you rich?' There will also be an American flag no larger than a child’s hand – glued to a lollipop stick and flying from the cash register. Americans, like human beings everywhere, believe many things that are obviously untrue. Their most destructive untruth is that it is very easy for any American to make money. They will not acknowledge how in fact hard money is to come by, and, therefore, those who have no money blame and blame and blame themselves. This inward blame has been a treasure for the rich and powerful, who have had to do less for their poor, publicly and privately, than any other ruling class since, say Napoleonic times. Many novelties have come from America. The most startling of these, a thing without precedent, is a mass of undignified poor. They do not love one another because they do not love themselves.

An ounce of naivety can earn you many days of shame. An ounce of stupidity can earn you a hundred days of shame. An ounce of insensibility can earn you a thousand days of shame. An ounce of folly can earn you countless days of shame.

A non-reading society is nothing but a miserable society; a non-reading nation will be nothing but a disgrace of all other nations!

Ci vuole sempre la disgrazia per aprire gli occhi alla gente

At the end of the first century of Christian rule, the Colosseum still dominated Rome and the Parthenon towered above Athens. Yet when writers of this period discuss architecture, these aren’t the buildings that impress them. Instead, their admiration is drawn by another structure in Egypt. This building was so fabulous that writers in the ancient world struggled to find ways to convey its beauty. ‘Its splendour is such that mere words can only do it an injustice,’ wrote the historian Ammianus Marcellinus. It was, another writer thought, ‘one of the most unique and uncommon sights in the world. For nowhere else on earth can one find such a building.’ Its great halls, its columns, its astonishing statues and its art all made it, outside Rome, ‘the most magnificent building in the whole world’. Everyone had heard of it. No one has heard of it now. While tourists still toil up to the Parthenon, or look in awe at the Colosseum, outside academia few people know of the temple of Serapis. That is because in AD 392 a bishop, supported by a band of fanatical Christians, reduced it to rubble.

Don't look shy if you wear rag and people gag, many are in the grave wearing skeleton, and you should even be happier for wearing a skin without clothes.

Free your life from the fangs of gossips by not associating yourself with them. Anyone who helps you to gossip about someone can also help someone to gossip about you.

Grace is what is needed after disgrace.

If the devil wants to really disgrace and destroy a fool and power drunk person, he will push him to go and fight in a brothel or at the sex-toy shop.

If you come away with me, I can promise you pain and disgrace,” I said. “But I will love you like no other can.

I PAINT MY FACE. By Omrane Khuder. Mirror, distorted; I sit, paint my Face, Toxic white Make-up buries my Scars, My Eyes tell lies; Dumbfounded Confidence hides the Disgrace. Place the tragic Vehicle called My Life in to Drive, Sad pathetic Clown; Late for the suppression show, Despair another time; Let the chuckles and defeat derive. I paint my Heart; I hide my True. I paint my Soul; I keep it from You. I paint, I cannot accept; To ignore you the way you ignore Me? I paint my scarred and pitiful Face; No Will left to restore Me. I paint my Face; it’s all I know to do. My painted Face shatters the Mirror, yet still all I see is You.

Marcie: I know you’re still wounded. Danny, you have to let it go. That is what this mind game is all about, discovering who we are.       Humans lie to themselves all the time. There should be no disgrace in being human, that is what I believe.

Don't let out your true behaviour in the public, even if you were born nasty, make others feel you were well bred.

for that which is a disgrace to human nature, throws something of a shade over all the human character, and each individual feels his share of the wound that is given to the whole.

Granville did not come to enquire after me, as I had known he would not. I had always considered him made awkward by painful emotion, but now I considered that perhaps hew as only unfeeling.

I'm sorry, my child, I just find it hard to whip up an interest in the subject. It's admirable, what you do, what she does, but to me animal-welfare people are a bit like Christians of a certain kind. Everyone is so cheerful and well-intentioned that after a while you itch to go off and do some raping and pillaging. Or to kick a cat.

In the arena of life, so many lessons are taught but few are taken and few are applied

I remembered my mother’s insistence that I always wear clean underwear because I might get knocked down by a car on the way to or from school and I and the family would be disgraced even beyond the grave, presumably, if my underwear was dirty. And I began to worry, in fact, as the doctor sniffed and prodded, about the state of the shorts I was wearing. This made me want to laugh. But I could not breathe.

It is better to wait until you get the right thing, at the right time and in the right place; than to race for the wrong thing, at the wrong time and in the wrong place, for it yields nothing but disgrace.

It's no disgrace to be poor, but its might as well be.

It was Hypatia’s fault, said the Christians, that the governor was being so stubborn. It was she, they murmured, who was standing between Orestes and Cyril, preventing them from reconciling. Fanned by the parabalani, the rumours started to catch, and flame. Hypatia was not merely a difficult woman, they said. Hadn’t everyone seen her use symbols in her work, and astrolabes? The illiterate parabalani (‘bestial men – truly abominable’ as one philosopher would later call them) knew what these instruments were. They were not the tools of mathematics and philosophy, no: they were the work of the Devil. Hypatia was not a philosopher: she was a creature of Hell. It was she who was turning the entire city against God with her trickery and her spells. She was ‘atheizing’ Alexandria. Naturally, she seemed appealing enough – but that was how the Evil One worked. Hypatia, they said, had ‘beguiled many people through satanic wiles’. Worst of all, she had even beguiled Orestes. Hadn’t he stopped going to church? It was clear: she had ‘beguiled him through her magic’. This could not be allowed to continue. One day in March AD 415, Hypatia set out from her home to go for her daily ride through the city. Suddenly, she found her way blocked by a ‘multitude of believers in God’. They ordered her to get down from her chariot. Knowing what had recently happened to her friend Orestes, she must have realized as she climbed down that her situation was a serious one. She cannot possibly have realized quite how serious. As soon as she stood on the street, the parabalani, under the guidance of a Church magistrate called Peter – ‘a perfect believer in all respects in Jesus Christ’ – surged round and seized ‘the pagan woman’. They then dragged Alexandria’s greatest living mathematician through the streets to a church. Once inside, they ripped the clothes from her body then, using broken pieces of pottery as blades, flayed her skin from her flesh. Some say that, while she still gasped for breath, they gouged out her eyes. Once she was dead, they tore her body into pieces and threw what was left of the ‘luminous child of reason’ onto a pyre and burned her.

Now since shame is a mental picture of disgrace, in which we shrink from the disgrace itself and not from its consequences, and we only care what opinion is held of us because of the people who form that opinion, it follows that the people before whom we feel shame are those whose opinion of us matters to us.

Poetry speaks to you either at first sight or not at all. A flash of revelation and a flash of response.

Some disabled people spend a significant amount of their energy on trying to come across as abled or as not that disabled.

The disgrace of the church in the twentieth century is that more zeal is evident among Communists and cultists than among Christians.

There is no disgrace in being knocked down, there is only shame in not getting back up; never quit!

The telling of a lie is not only a sin or disgrace; it is the beginning of a disorder in the soul set in by the puncturing from a spear coated by guilt