C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


Rest is the sweet sauce of labor.


Rest is the fitting of self to its sphere.

John Dwight.

God giveth quietness at last.


Absence of occupation is not rest.


Thou hadst, for weary feet, the gift of rest.

William Watson.

  • On every mountain height
  • Is rest.
  • Goethe.

    Rest is sweet after strife.

    Lord Lytton.

    The word “rest” is not in my vocabulary.

    Horace Greeley.

    Straining breaks the bow, and relaxation relieves the mind.


    Silken rest tie all my cares up.


    Let the weary at length possess quiet rest.


    For too much rest itself becomes a pain.


    Thou hast made us for Thyself, and the heart never resteth till it findeth rest in Thee.

    St. Augustine.

    Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.


    Weariness can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth finds the down pillow hard.


    Diogenes found more rest in his tub than Alexander on his throne.


    Repose demands for its expression the implied capability of its opposite,—energy.


    Where can a frail man hide him? In what arms shall a short life enjoy a little rest?


    That they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.


  • Calm on the bosom of thy God,
  • Fair spirit! rest thee now!
  • Mrs. Hemans.

  • Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
  • And I will kiss thee into rest.
  • Byron.

    Men, in whatever anxiety they may be, if they are men, sometimes indulge in relaxation.


    It is not in understanding a set of doctrines; not in outward comprehension of the “scheme of salvation,” that rest and peace are to be found, but in taking up, in all lowliness and meekness, the yoke of the Lord Jesus Christ.

    F. W. Robertson.

    It thou seek rest in this life, how wilt thou then attain to the everlasting rest? Dispose not thyself for much rest, but for great patience. Seek true peace—not in earth, but in heaven; not in men, nor in any other creature, but in God alone.

    Thomas à Kempis.

  • And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds,
  • Is one with Prayer.
  • Bayard Taylor.

  • Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,
  • Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.
  • Spenser.

    It is not the placidity of stupid ease that we should covet, but the repose that is requisite for the renewal of exhausted strength, the serenity that succeeds the storm, and the salubrity that repays its ravages.

    E. L. Magoon.

  • Oh, give Thine own sweet rest to me,
  • That I may speak with soothing power
  • A word in season, as from Thee,
  • To weary ones in needful hour.
  • F. R. Havergal.

    O rest! thou soft word! autumnal flower of Eden! moonlight of the spirit! Rest of the soul, when wilt thou hold our head that it may cease beating?


    Rest is a fine medicine. Let your stomachs rest, ye dyspeptics; let your brain rest, you wearied and worried men of business; let your limbs rest, ye children of toil!


  • Now is done thy long day’s work;
  • Fold thy palms across thy breast,
  • Fold thine arms, turn to thy rest
  • Let them rave.
  • Tennyson.

  • For me, my heart, that erst did go
  • Most like a tired child at a show,
  • That sees through tears the mummers leap,
  • Would now its wearied vision close,
  • Would childlike on His love repose,
  • Who giveth His Beloved, sleep.
  • Mrs. E. B. Browning.

    The Princess Elizabeth, of England, was found dead with her head resting on her Bible, open at these words, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” So may we all fall asleep at last when the day’s work for Jesus is over, and wake up in heaven to find ourselves in the delicious rest that remaineth for the people of God.

    T. L. Cuyler.

    O, what is more sweet than when the mind, set free from care, lays its burden down; and, when spent with distant travel, we come back to our home and rest our limbs on the wished-for bed? This, this alone, repays such toils as these!


  • Of all our loving Father’s gifts
  • I often wonder which is best,
  • And cry: Dear God, the one that lifts
  • Our soul from weariness to rest,
  • The rest of silence—that is best.
  • Mary Clemmer.

  • Oh, some seek bread—no more—life’s mere subsistence,
  • And some seek wealth and ease—the common quest;
  • And some seek fame, that hovers in the distance;
  • But all are seeking rest.
  • Frederick Langbridge.

  • Thousands of toiling hands
  • Where theirs have ceased from their labours,
  • Thousands of aching brains
  • Where theirs are no longer busy.
  • Thousands of weary feet
  • Where theirs have completed their journey,
  • Thousands of throbbing hearts
  • Where theirs are at rest for ever.
  • Longfellow.

  • Rest, weary heart,
  • From all Thy silent griefs and secret pain,
  • Thy profitless regrets, and longings vain;
  • Wisdom and love have ordered all the past,
  • All shall be blessedness and joy at last;
  • Cast off the cares that have so long oppressed;
  • Rest, sweetly rest!
  • Jane Borthwick.