"Whore" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... strangled with a bowstring; and the tyrant, insensible to pity or remorse, after surveying the body of the innocent youth, struck it rudely with his foot: "Thy father," he cried, "was a knave, thy mother a whore, ...
— The History of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire - Volume 4 • Edward Gibbon
... Shield's expression. But Patrick Walker is more copious. 'Curate Hall Haddo,' says he, sub voce Peden, 'or Hell Haddo, as he was more justly to be called, a pokeful of old condemned errors and the filthy vile lusts of the flesh, a published whore-monger, a common gross drunkard, continually and godlessly scraping and skirling on a fiddle, continually breathing flames against the remnant of Israel. But the Lord put an end to his piping, and all these offences were composed ...
— Lay Morals • Robert Louis Stevenson
... now. You give yourself no more concern about a new play, than if you had never had any thing to do with the stage.' JOHNSON. 'Why, Sir, our tastes greatly alter. The lad does not care for the child's rattle, and the old man does not care for the young man's whore.' GOLDSMITH. 'Nay, Sir, but your Muse was not a whore.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I do not think she was. But as we advance in the journey of life, we drop some of the things which have pleased us; whether it be that we are fatigued and don't choose to carry so many things any farther, or that ...
— Life of Johnson - Abridged and Edited, with an Introduction by Charles Grosvenor Osgood • James Boswell
... see! still young thou art, But not the least bit shrewd or smart, Thy business thus to slight: So this advice I bid thee heed— Now that thou art a whore indeed, ...
— Faust • Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
... moment claim delay,[5.B.] Where dwelt of yore the Lusians' luckless queen;[bo][54] And Church and Court did mingle their array, And Mass and revel were alternate seen; Lordlings and freres—ill-sorted fry I ween! But here the Babylonian Whore hath built A dome, where flaunts she in such glorious sheen, That men forget the blood which she hath spilt, And bow the knee to Pomp that ...
— The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2 • George Gordon Byron
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