Birth

Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring.

It was the winter wild While the Heav’n-born child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.

This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heav’n’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That He our deadly forfeit should release, And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.

Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d.

When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools.

The naked, poor, and mangled Peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births.

A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy.

What then remains but that we still should cry For being born, and, being born, to die?

Not to be born surpasses thought and speech. The second best is to have seen the light And then to go back quickly whence we came.

A baby is an inestimable blessing and bother.

Why is it that we rejoice at a birth and grieve at a funeral? It is because we are not the person involved.

The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why .

The human bird shall take his first flight, filling the world with amazement, all writings with his fame, and bringing eternal glory to the nest whence he sprang.