Error is frail. [ Zoroaster ]
Beauty is a frail good. [ Ovid ]
Rely not too much on frail hope. [ Seneca ]
Man is frail, and prone to evil. [ Jeremy Taylor ]
Oh, frail estate of human things! [ Dryden ]
But we all are men.
In our own natures frail; and capable
Of our flesh, few are angels. [ William Shakespeare ]
A globe of dew
Filling, in the morning new.
Some eyed flower, whose young leaves waken
On an unimagined world;
Constellated suns unshaken,
Orbits measureless are furled
In that frail and fading sphere.
With ten millions gathered there
To tremble, gleam and disappear. [ Shelley ]
Sorrow for past ills, doth restore frail man
To his first innocence. [ Nabbs ]
I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood. [ William Shakespeare ]
Circumstances that render us frail, only show how frail we are. [ Mme. de Choiseul ]
Frail empire of a day! That with the setting sun extinct is lost. [ Somerville ]
All men are frail; but thou shouldst reckon none so frail as thyself. [ Thomas a Kempis ]
Beauty, frail flower that every season fears, blooms in thy colors for a thousand years. [ Pope ]
For these attacks do not contribute to make us frail but rather show us to be what we are. [ Thomas a Kempis ]
Midnight, - strange mystic hour, - when the veil between the frail present and the eternal future grows thin. [ Mrs. Stowe ]
It is vain to trust in wrong; it is like erecting a building upon a frail foundation, and which will directly be sure to topple over. [ Hosea Ballou ]
I was walking in the street, a beggar stopped me, — a frail old man. His inflamed, tearful eyes, blue lips, rough rags, disgusting sores . . . oh, how horribly poverty had disfigured the unhappy creature! He stretched out to me his red, swollen, filthy hand. He groaned and whimpered for alms. I felt in all my pockets. No purse, watch, or handkerchief did I find. I had left them all at home. The beggar waited and his out-stretched hand twitched and trembled slightly. Embarrassed and confused, I seized his dirty hand and pressed it.
Don't be vexed with me, brother; I have nothing with me, brother. The beggar raised his bloodshot eyes to mine; his blue lips smiled, and he returned the pressure of my chilled fingers.
Never mind, brother, stammered he;
thank you for this — this, too, was a gift, brother. I felt that I, too, had received a gift from my brother. [ Ivan Tourgueneff ]