Blacksmith Quotes?

Hey all!

You may notice that the quote under Blacksmith Forums at the top changes. Right now it cycles through about 6 or so sayings:

-Keeping the craft alive
-Blacksmith’s children are not afraid of sparks
-Get it hot, hit it hard
-Don’t lose your temper
-Whenever you start is the right time
-An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest

Any suggestions of some others? They don’t need to be blacksmith related. Should be shorter, nothing too long :slight_smile:

Not really a blacksmith specific quote but I always liked this one-
The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten.

Excellent quote! I wonder how it’d look in the title… Hmm… I’ll put it in the rotation unless it’s too long :slight_smile:

How about, ‘‘Strike whilst the iron is hot’’ or ‘‘going at it hammer and tongs’’
:smiley:

Oh also ‘‘don’t have too many irons in the fire’’

I know its not quite a quote but its to do with the Blacksmith,

And the smith his iron measures hammered to the anvil’s chime;
Thanking God, whose boundless wisdom makes the flowers of poesy bloom
In the forge’s dust and cinders, in the tissues of the loom.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , Nuremberg .

Also I love this one,

The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate’er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter’s voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother’s voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipe
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling,–rejoicing,–sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!

Regards.

Beat the daylight out of it…

Do you catch my drift…

These are not very good for your intended use!


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