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“To us children he (Mr Ewing) was our very own ‘Mr Chipsâ€� and invariably we would each receive half a crown whenever we encountered him on his afternoon walk. If we were particularly lucky, he would send us to the ‘Big Houseâ€� for ice-cream â€� a rare treat in the early 1950s”
― Bill Scott

“The sparkle and morning-freshness of the shop, and the butter-conjuring girl, formed a mind-picture which accompanied the whole of my youth.(about the Buttercup Dairy)”
― Muriel Spark, Curriculum Vitae: Autobiography

“A surprising, audacious and impudent attempt was made last Saturday by several people of this town to celebrate the birthday of the Pretender's son; the women distinguished themselves by wearing tartan gowns with shoes and stockings of the same kind, and white ribbands on their heads and breasts; dinners were bespoke at Leith with an intent to have balls afterwards.”
― Willem van Keppel

“The whole city of Edinburgh poured down upon Leith, to see the colony depart, amidst the tears, and prayers, and praises of relations and friends, and of their countrymen. Many seamen and soldiers, whose services had been refused, because more had offered themselves than were needed, were found hid in the ships, and, when ordered ashore, clung to ropes and timbers, imploring to go, without reward, with their companions.”
― John Dalrymple, Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, Volume II

“Leith, by that Water which is named by thee,
To thee a thousand Favours granted be;
Thy bosom is a safe and happy Port,
To which a thousand veshells do resort;
Thou art a Pilot-Town, thy ships are such
As are ambitious to outsail the Dutch.
The utmost parts of Earth thy Sails descry.”
― Arthur Johnston, Encomia Urbium

“Among all the public worthies whom the approach of Majesty called into action, as the return of spring does the busy bees, none were more alert and alive to the dignity and importance of their office than the worshipful municipality of Leith. Some unknown power, which deemed itself appalling to the whole Magistracy of the ancient and loyal town, ordained that the King should land on the odiferous shores of the fishing village of Newhaven. But Bailie Macfie, as he sat at the head of the Council board with his valient peers, the intrepid Bailie Reoch and Bailie Newton, snapped his fingers at the huge bugbear, and it fled wailing away, discomfited like the spirit of Loda from the spear of Fingal, and was visible no more.”
― John Galt, The Ayrshire Legatees, The Steam-Boat, The Gathering of the West