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But Deepest Of All Illusory Appearances, For Hiding Wonder, As For Many Other Ends, Are Your Two Grand Fundamental World-enveloping Appearances, Space And Time. These, As Spun And Woven For Us From Before Birth Itself, To Clothe Our Celestial Me For Dwelling Here, And Yet To Blind It, Lie All-embracing, As The Universal Canvas, Or Warp And Woof, Whereby All Minor Illusions, In This Phantasm Existence, Weave And Paint Themselves. In Vain, While Here On Earth, Shall You Endeavor To Strip Them Off; You Can, At Best, But Rend Them Asunder For Moments, And Look Through.

-Thomas Carlyle

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But Deepest Of All

Thomas Carlyle

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But Deepest Of All Illusory Appearances, For Hiding Wonder, As For Many Other Ends, Are Your Two Grand Fundamental World-enveloping Appearances, Space And Time. These, As Spun And Woven For Us From Before Birth Itself, To Clothe Our Celestial Me For Dwelling Here, And Yet To Blind It, Lie All-embracing, As The Universal Canvas, Or Warp And Woof, Whereby All Minor Illusions, In This Phantasm Existence, Weave And Paint Themselves. In Vain, While Here On Earth, Shall You Endeavor To Strip Them Off; You Can, At Best, But Rend Them Asunder For Moments, And Look Through.

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Alas! While The Body Stands So Broad And Brawny, Must The Soul Lie Blinded, Dwarfed, Stupefied, Almost Annihilated? Alas! This Was, Too, A Breath Of God, Bestowed In Heaven, But On Earth Never To Be Unfolded!

Every Day That Is Born Into The World Comes Like A Burst Of Music And Rings The Whole Day Through, And You Make Of It A Dance, A Dirge, Or A Life March, As You Will.

May Blessings Be Upon The Head Of Cadmus, The Phoenicians, Or Whoever It Was That Invented Books.

Doubt Of Any Kind Cannot Be Resolved Except By Action.

Work Is The Grand Cure Of All The Maladies And Miseries That Ever Beset Mankind.

The Most Unhappy Of All Men Is The Man Who Cannot Tell What He Is Going To Do, Who Has Got No Work Cut-out For Him In The World, And Does Not Go Into It. For Work Is The Grand Cure Of All The Maladies And Miseries That Ever Beset Mankind,honest Work, Which You Intend Getting Done.

A Greater Number Of God's Creatures Believe In Mahomet's Word At This Hour Than In Any Other Word Whatever. Are We To Suppose That It Was A Miserable Piece Of Spiritual Legerdemain, This Which So Many Creatures Of The Almighty Have Lived By And Died By?

I Grow Daily To Honour Facts More And More, And Theory Less And Less. A Fact, It Seems To Me, Is A Great Thing; A Sentence Printed, If Not By God, Then At Least By The Devil.

Of All Your Troubles, Great And Small, The Greatest Are The Ones That Don't Happen At All.

Biography Is The Only True History.

The Nobleness Of Silence. The Highest Melody Dwells Only In Silence,--the Sphere Melody, The Melody Of Health.

Men's Hearts Ought Not To Be Set Against One Another, But Set With One Another And All Against Evil Only.

With Union Grounded On Falsehood And Ordering Us To Speak And Act Lies, We Will Not Have Anything To Do. Peace? A Brutal Lethargy Is Peaceable; The Noisome Is Peaceable. We Hope For A Living Peace, Not A Dead One!

There Is Always Hope In A Man That Actually And Earnestly Works: In Idleness Alone Is There Perpetual Despair.

Considering The Multitude Of Mortals That Handle The Pen In These Days, And Can Mostly Spell, And Write Without Glaring Violations Of Grammar, The Question Naturally Arises: How Is It, Then, That No Work Proceeds From Them, Bearing Any Stamp Of Authenticity And Permanence; Of Worth For More Than One Day?

Does Not Every True Man Feel That He Is Himself Made Higher By Doing Reverence To What Is Really Above Him?

Poetry Is The Attempt Which Man Makes To Render His Existence Harmonious.

The Greatest Mistake Is To Imagine That We Never Err.

Friendship, In The Old Heroic Sense Of That Term, No Longer Exists. It Is In Reality No Longer Expected Or Recognized As A Virtue Among Men.

Lost Friendship

A Fair Day's Wage For A Fair Day's Work": It Is As Just A Demand As Governed Men Ever Made Of Governing. It Is The Everlasting Right Of Man.

Let Each Become All That He Was Created Capable Of Being.

A Word Spoken In Season, At The Right Moment; Is The Mother Of Ages.

One Seems To Believe Almost All That They Believe; And When They Stop Short And Call It A Religion, And You Pass On, And Call It Only A Reminiscence Of One, Should You Not Part With The Kiss Of Peace?

History Is A Mighty Dramos, Enacted Upon The Theatre Of Times, With Suns For Lamps And Eternity For A Background.

You Can Make Even A Parrot Into A Learned Political Economist - All He Must Learn Are The Two Words "supply" And "demand."

And Man's Little Life Has Duties That Are Great, That Are Alone Great, And Go Up To Heaven And Down To Hell.

In A Different Time, In A Different Place, It Is Always Some Other Side Of Our Common Human Nature That Has Been Developing Itself. The Actual Truth Is The Sum Of All These.

No Good Book Or Good Thing Of Any Kind Shows It Best Face At First. No The Most Common Quality Of In A True Work Of Art That Has Excellence And Depth, Is That At First Sight It Produces A Certain Disappointment.

The Aristocracy Of Feudal Parchment Has Passed Away With A Mighty Rushing, And Now, By A Natural Course, We Arrive At Aristocracy Of The Money-bag.

It Is A Vain Hope To Make People Happy By Politics.

We Have Not Read An Author Till We Have Seen His Object, Whatever It May Be, As He Saw It.

Lives The Man That Can Figure A Naked Duke Of Windlestraw Addressing A Naked House Of Lords?

Rest Is For The Dead.

Piety Does Not Mean That A Man Should Make A Sour Face About Things, And Refuse To Enjoy In Moderation What His Maker Has Given.

Man, It Is Not Thy Works, Which Are Mortal, Infinitely Little, And The Greatest No Greater Than The Least, But Only The Spirit Thou Workest In, That Can Have Worth Or Continuance.

In The True Literary Man There Is Thus Ever, Acknowledged Or Not By The World, A Sacredness: He Is The Light Of The World; The World's Priest; -- Guiding It, Like A Sacred Pillar Of Fire, In Its Dark Pilgrimage Through The Waste Of Time.

Rest Is A Fine Medicine. Let Your Stomachs Rest, Ye Dyspeptics; Let Your Brain Rest, You Wearied And Worried People Of Business; Let Your Limbs Rest, Ye Children Of Toil!

That A Parliament, Especially A Parliament With Newspaper Reporters Firmly Established In It, Is An Entity Which By Its Very Nature Cannot Do Work, But Can Do Talk Only.

The Leafy Blossoming Present Time Springs From The Whole Past, Remembered And Unrememberable.

The Soul Gives Unity To What It Looks At With Love.

Under All Speech That Is Good For Anything There Lies A Silence That Is Better, Silence Is Deep As Eternity; Speech Is Shallow As Time.

Is Not Light Grander Than Fire? It Is The Same Element In A State Of Purity.

Man Always Worships Something; Always He Sees The Infinite Shadowed Forth In Something Finite; And Indeed Can And Must So See It In Any Finite Thing, Once Tempt Him Well To Fix His Eyes Thereon.

Wondrous Is The Strength Of Cheerfulness, Altogether Past Calculation Its Powers Of Endurance.

Properly Speaking, All True Work Is Religion.

This Is The Eternal Law Of Nature For A Man, My Beneficent Exeter-hall Friends; This, That He Shall Be Permitted, Encouraged, And If Need Be, Compelled To Do What Work The Maker Of Him Has Intended By The Making Of Him For This World! Not That He Should Eat Pumpkin With Never Such Felicity In The West India Islands Is, Or Can Be, The Blessedness Of Our Black Friend; But That He Should Do Useful Work There, According As The Gifts Have Been Bestowed On Him For That.

Evil, Once Manfully Fronted, Ceases To Be Evil; There Is Generous Battle-hope In Place Of Dead, Passive Misery; The Evil Itself Has Become A Kind Of Good.

It Is Part Of My Creed That The Only Poetry Is History, Could We Tell It Right.

A Very Sea Of Thought; Neither Calm Nor Clear, If You Will, Yet Wherein The Toughest Pearl-diver May Dive To His Utmost Depth, And Return Not Only With Sea-wreck But With True Orients.

Who Is There That, In Logical Words, Can Express The Effect Music Has On Us?

In Every Phenomenon The Beginning Remains Always The Most Notable Moment.

History Is A Great Dust Heap.

Our Grand Business Undoubtedly Is, Not To See What Lies Dimly At A Distance, But To Do What Lies Clearly At Hand.

A Well-written Life Is Almost As Rare As A Well-spent One.

All That A University Or Final Highest School. Can Do For Us Is Still But What The First School Began Doing--teach Us To Read. We Learn To Read In Various Languages, In Various Sciences; We Learn The Alphabet And Letters Of All Manner Of Books. But The Place Where We Are To Get Knowledge, Even Theoretic Knowledge, Is The Books Themselves. It Depends On What We Read, After All Manner Of Professors Have Done Their Best For Us. The True University Of These Days Is A Collection Of Books.

With Respect To Duels, Indeed, I Have My Own Ideas. Few Things In This So Surprising World Strike Me With More Surprise. Two Little Visual Spectra Of Men, Hovering With Insecure Enough Cohesion In The Midst Of The Unfathomable, And To Dissolve Therein, At Any Rate, Very Soon, Make Pause At The Distance Of Twelve Paces Asunder; Whirl Around, And Simultaneously By The Cunningest Mechanism, Explode One Another Into Dissolution; And, Offhand, Become Air, And Non-extant--the Little Spitfires!

Not Our Logical, Mensurative Faculty, But Our Imaginative One Is King Over Us; I Might Say, Priest And Prophet To Lead Us Heavenward; Or Magician And Wizard To Lead Us Hellward.

Laws, Written, If Not On Stone Tables, Yet On The Azure Of Infinitude, In The Inner Heart Of God's Creation, Certain As Life, Certain As Death, Are There, And Thou Shalt Not Disobey Them.

If You Will Believe Me, You Who Are Young, Yours Is The Golden Season Of Life. As You Have Heard It Called, So It Verily Is, The Seed-time Of Life; In Which, If You Do Not Sow, Or If You Sow Tares Instead Of Wheat, You Cannot Expect To Reap Well Afterwards, And You Will Arrive At Little. And In The Course Of Years When You Come To Look Back, If You Have Not Done What You Have Heard From Your Advisers,-and Among Many Counsellors There Is Wisdom,-you Will Bitterly Repent When It Is Too Late.

Money Will Buy Money's Worth; But The Thing Men Call Fame, What Is It?

The Crash Of The Whole Solar And Stellar Systems Could Only Kill You Once.

Originality Is A Thing We Constantly Clamour For, And Constantly Quarrel With; As If, Observes Our Author Himself, Any Originality But Our Own Could Be Expected To Content Us! In Fact All Strange Thing Are Apt, Without Fault Of Theirs, To Estrange Us At First View, And Unhappily Scarcely Anything Is Perfectly Plain, But What Is Also Perfectly Common.

The Civil Authority, Or That Part Of It Which Remained Faithful To Their Trust And True To The Ends Of The Covenant, Did, In Answer To Their Consciences, Turn Out A Tyrant, In A Way Which The Christians In Aftertimes Will Mention With Honor, And All Tyrants In The World Look At With Fear.

It Is Not To Taste Sweet Things; But To Do Noble And True Things, And Vindicate Himself Under God's Heaven As A God-made Man, That The Poorest Son Of Adam Dimly Longs. Show Him The Way Of Doing That, The Dullest Day-drudge Kindles Into A Hero. They Wrong Man Greatly Who Say He Is To Be Seduced By Ease. Difficulty, Abnegation, Martyrdom, Death, Are The Allurements That Act On The Heart Of Man. Kindle The Inner Genial Life Of Him, You Have A Flame That Burns Up All Lower Considerations.

There Must Be A New World If There Is To Be Any World At All!... These Days Of Universal Death Must Be Days Of Universal New Birth, If The Ruin Is Not To Be Total And Final! It Is Time To Make The Dullest Man Consider; And Ask Himself, Whence He Came? Whither He Is Bound?

Music... A Kind Of Inarticulate, Unfathomable Speech, Which Leads To The Edge Of The Infinite.

One Must Verify Or Expel His Doubts, And Convert Them Into The Certainty Of Yes Or No.

War Is A Quarrel Between Two Thieves Too Cowardly To Fight Their Own Battle.

A Man Must Indeed Be A Hero To Appear Such In The Eyes Of His Valet.

A Pygmy Standing On The Outward Crust Of This Small Planet, His Far-reaching Spirit Stretches Outward To The Infinite, And There Alone Finds Rest.

Caution Is The Lower Story Of Prudence.

It Is Through Symbols That Man Consciously Or Unconsciously Lives, Works And Has His Being.

If A Man Was Great While Living, He Becomes Tenfold Greater When Dead.

Laughter Means Sympathy.

A Sad Spectacle. If They Be Inhabited, What A Scope For Misery And Folly. If They Be Not Inhabited, What A Waste Of Space.

Of All Acts Of Man Repentance Is The Most Divine. The Greatest Of All Faults Is To Be Conscious Of None.

Repentance And Forgiveness

Not On Morality, But On Cookery, Let Us Build Our Stronghold: There Brandishing Our Frying-pan, As Censer, Let Us Offer Sweet Incense To The Devil, And Live At Ease On The Fat Things He Has Provided For His Elect!

All Sorts Of Heroes Are Intrinsically Of The Same Material; That Given A Great Soul, Open To The Divine Significance Of Life, Then There Is Given A Man Fit To Speak Of This, To Sing Of This, To Fight And Work For This, In A Great, Victorious, Enduring Manner; There Is Given A Hero, -- The Outward Shape Of Whom Will Depend On The Time And The Environment He Finds Himself In.

O Thou That Pinest In The Imprisonment Of The Actual, And Criest Bitterly To The Gods For A Kingdom Wherein To Rule And Create, Know This For A Truth: The Thing Thou Seekest Is Already Here, "here Or Nowhere," Couldst Thou Only See.

In Books Lies The Soul Fo The Whole Past Time.

Men Seldom, Or Rather Never For A Length Of Time And Deliberately, Rebel Against Anything That Does Not Deserve Rebelling Against.

For All Right Judgment Of Any Man Or Things It Is Useful, Nay, Essential, To See His Good Qualities Before Pronouncing On His Bad.

We Are To Take No Counsel With Flesh And Blood; Give Ear To No Vain Cavils, Vain Sorrows And Wishes; To Know That We Know Nothing, That The Worst And Cruelest To Our Eyes Is Not What It Seems, That We Have To Receive Whatsoever Befalls Us As Sent From God Above, And Say, "it Is Good And Wise,--god Is Great! Though He Slay Me, Yet I Trust In Him." Islam Means, In Its Way, Denial Of Self. This Is Yet The Highest Wisdom That Heaven Has Revealed To Our Earth.

The True University Of These Days Is A Collection Of Books.

Pain Was Not Given Thee Merely To Be Miserable Under; Learn From It, Turn It To Account.

Friend, Hast Thou Considered The "rugged, All-nourishing Earth," As Sophocles Well Names Her; How She Feeds The Sparrow On The Housetop, Much More Her Darling Man?

Great Men Are The Commissioned Guides Of Mankind, Who Rule Their Fellows Because They Are Wiser.

No Person Was Every Rightly Understood Until They Had Been First Regarded With A Certain Feeling, Not Of Tolerance, But Of Sympathy.

What Unknown Seas Of Feeling Lie In Man, And Will From Time To Time Break Through!

A Man Perfects Himself By Working.

The Whole Past Is The Procession Of The Present.

The English Are A Dumb People. They Can Do Great Acts, But Not Describe Them.

Learn To Be Good Readers, Which Is Perhaps A More Difficult Thing Than You Imagine. Learn To Be Discriminative In Your Reading; To Read Faithfully, And With Your Best Attention, All Kinds Of Things Which You Have A Real Interest In,--a Real, Not An Imaginary,--and Which You Find To Be Really Fit For What You Are Engaged In.

Terror Itself, When Once Grown Transcendental, Becomes A Kind Of Courage; As Frost Sufficiently Intense, According To The Poet Milton, Will Burn.

The Outer Passes Away; The Innermost Is The Same Yesterday, Today, And Forever.

Skepticism Means, Not Intellectual Doubt Alone, But Moral Doubt.

Parties On The Back Of Parties, At War With The World And With Each Other.

It Is Meritorious To Insist On Forms; Religion And All Else Naturally Clothes Itself In Forms. Everywhere The Formed World Is The Only Habitable One.

The Work An Unknown Good Man Has Done Is Like A Vein Of Water Flowing Hidden Underground, Secretly Making The Ground Green.

A Lie Should Be Trampled On And Extinguished Wherever Found. I Am For Fumigating The Atmosphere When I Suspect That Falsehood, Like Pestilence, Breathes Around Me.

A Good Book Is The Purest Essence Of A Human Soul.

The Christian Must Be Consumed By The Conviction Of The Infinite Beauty Of Holiness And The Infinite Damnability Of Sin.

Infinite Beauty

For The Superior Morality, Of Which We Hear So Much, We Too Would Desire To Be Thankful: At The Same Time, It Were But Blindness To Deny That This Superior Morality Is Properly Rather An Inferior Criminality, Produced Not By Greater Love Of Virtue, But By Greater Perfection Of Police; And Of That Far Subtler And Stronger Police, Called Public Opinion.

There Is Endless Merit In A Man's Knowing When To Have Done.

Heroism Is The Divine Relation Which, In All Times, Unites A Great Man To Other Men.

Endurance Is Patience Concentrated.

Wondrous Is The Strength Of Cheerfulness, And Its Power Of Endurance - The Cheerful Man Will Do More In The Same Time, Will Do It; Better, Will Preserve It Longer, Than The Sad Or Sullen.

Nakedness, Hunger, Distress Of All Kinds, Death Itself Have Been Cheerfully Suffered, When The Heart Was Right. It Is The Feeling Of Injustice That Is Insupportable To All Men.

The First Duty Of Man Is That Of Subduing Fear.

Eternity Looks Grander And Kinder If Time Grow Meaner And More Hostile.

The Present Is The Living Sum-total Of The Whole Past.

The Age Of Miracles Is Forever Here.

Do The Duty Which Lies Nearest To You, The Second Duty Will Then Become Clearer.

We Have Chosen Mahomet Not As The Most Eminent Prophet; But As The One We Are Freest To Speak Of. He Is By No Means The Truest Of Prophets; But I Do Esteem Him A True One.

Is Not Light Grander Than Fire?

Statistics Is A Science Which Ought To Be Honourable, The Basis Of Many Most Important Sciences; But It Is Not To Be Carried On By Steam, This Science, Any More Than Others Are; A Wise Head Is Requisite For Carrying It On.

Eyes Bright, With Many Tears, Behind Them.

Woe To Him, . . . Who Has No Court Of Appeal Against The World's Judgment.

Acorns Are Planted Silently By Some Unnoticed Breeze.

We Call It A Society; And Go About Professing Openly The Totalest Separation, Isolation. Our Life Is Not A Mutual Helpfulness; But Rather, Cloaked Under Due Laws-of-war, Named Fair Competition And So Forth, It Is A Mutual Hostility.

Is Man’s Civilization Only A Wrappage, Through Which The Savage Nature Of Him Can Still Burst, Infernal As Ever?

He Who Talks Much About Virtue In The Abstract, Begins To Be Suspected; It Is Shrewdly Guessed That Where There Is Great Preaching There Will Be Little Almsgiving.

Speech That Leads Not To Action, Still More That Hinders It, Is A Nuisance On The Earth.

What This Country Needs Is A Man Who Knows God Other Than By Heresay.

In The Long-run Every Government Is The Exact Symbol Of Its People, With Their Wisdom And Unwisdom; We Have To Say, Like People Like Government.

Feel It In Thy Heart And Then Say Whether It Is Of God!

Nothing Stops The Man Who Desires To Achieve. Every Obstacle Is Simply A Course To Develop His Achievement Muscle. It's A Strengthening Of His Powers Of Accomplishment.

Love Is Ever The Beginning Of Knowledge As Fire Is Of Light.

Nature Alone Is Antique, And The Oldest Art A Mushroom.

He That Works And Does Some Poem, Not He That Merely Says One, Is Worthy Of The Name Of Poet.

It Is Great, And There Is No Other Greatness-to Make One Nook Of God's Creation More Fruitful, Better, More Worthy Of God; To Make Some Human Heart A Little Wiser, Manlier, Happier-more Blessed.

All Evil Is Like A Nightmare; The Instant You Stir Under It, The Evil Is Gone.

No Great Man Lives In Vain. The History Of The World Is But The Biography Of Great Men.

The Eye Sees What It Brings The Power To See.

It Is Not A Lucky Word, This Name Impossible; No Good Comes Of Those Who Have It So Often In Their Mouths.

Might And Right Do Differ Frightfully From Hour To Hour, But Then Centuries To Try It In, They Are Found To Be Identical.

By Nature Man Hates Change; Seldom Will He Quit His Old Home Till It Has Actually Fallen Around His Ears.

The Infinite, Absolute Character Of Virtue Has Passed Into A Finite, Conditional One; It Is No Longer A Worship Of The Beautiful And Good; But A Calculation Of The Profitable.

I Don't Like To Talk Much With People Who Always Agree With Me. It Is Amusing To Coquette With An Echo For A Little While, But One Soon Tires Of It.

Before Philosophy Can Teach By Experience, The Philosophy Has To Be In Readiness, The Experience Must Be Gathered And Intelligibly Recorded.

The Philosopher Is He To Whom The Highest Has Descended, And The Lowest Has Mounted Up; Who Is The Equal And Kindly Brother Of All.

Originality Is A Thing We Constantly Clamour For, And Constantly Quarrel With.

Funny Basketball

All Greatness Is Unconscious, Or It Is Little And Naught.

What You See, But Can't See Over Is As Good As Infinite.

The Genuine Essence Of Truth Never Dies.

Science Has Done Much For Us; But It Is A Poor Science That Would Hide From Us The Great Deep Sacred Infinitude Of Nescience, On Which All Science Swims As A Mere Superficial Film.

A False Man Found A Religion? Why, A False Man Cannot Build A Brick House!

The Past Is Always Attractive Because It Is Drained Of Fear.

Courtesy Is The Due Of Man To Man; Not Of Suit-of-clothes To Suit-of-clothes.

Philosophy Dwells Aloft In The Temple Of Science, The Divinity Of Its Inmost Shrine; Her Dictates Descend Among Men, But She Herself Descends Not : Whoso Would Behold Her Must Climb With Long And Laborious Effort, Nay, Still Linger In The Forecourt, Till Manifold Trial Have Proved Him Worthy Of Admission Into The Interior Solemnities.

Wonderful Force Of Public Opinion! We Must Act And Walk In All Points As It Prescribes; Follow The Traffic It Bids Us, Realize The Sum Of Money, The Degree Of Influence It Expects Of Us, Or We Shall Be Lightly Esteemed; Certain Mouthfuls Of Articulate Wind Will Be Blown At Us, And This What Mortal Courage Can Front?

Wise Man Was He Who Counselled That Speculation Should Have Free Course, And Look Fearlessly Towards All The Thirty-two Points Of The Compass, Whithersoever And Howsoever It Listed.

Laughter Is The Cipher Key Wherewith We Decipher The Whole Man

No Age Seemed The Age Of Romance To Itself.

See Deep Enough, And You See Musically.

Music And Healing

The World Is A Republic Of Mediocrities, And Always Was.

A Thinking Man Is The Worst Enemy The Prince Of Darkness Can Have; Every Time Such An One Announces Himself, I Doubt Not There Runs A Shudder Through The Nether Empire; And New Emissaries Are Trained With New Tactics, To, If Possible, Entrap And Hoodwink And Handcuff Him.

The Great Law Of Culture Is, Let Each Become All That He Was Created Capable Of Being; Expand, If Possible, To His Full Growth; Resisting All Impediments, Casting Off All Foreign, Especially All Noxious Adhesions, And Show Himself At Length In His Own Shape And Stature Be These What They May.

Great Men Are The Modelers, Patterns, And In A Wide Sense Creators, Of Whatsoever The General Mass Of Men Contrived To Do And Attain.

A Vein Of Poetry Exists In The Hearts Of All Men.

There Is Precious Instruction To Be Got By Finding We Were Wrong.

The Dead Are All Holy, Even They That Were Base And Wicked While Alive. Their Baseness And Wickedness Was Not They, Was But The Heavy And Unmanageable Environment That Lay Round Them.

Love Is The Only Game That Is Not Called On Account Of Darkness.

Not Brute Force But Only Persuasion And Faith Are The Kings Of This World.

Happy The People Whose Annals Are Blank In History Books!

Imperfection Clings To A Person, And If They Wait Till They Are Brushed Off Entirely, They Would Spin For Ever On Their Axis, Advancing Nowhere.

Foolish Men Imagine That Because Judgment For An Evil Thing Is Delayed, There Is No Justice; But Only Accident Here Below. Judgment For An Evil Thing Is Many Times Delayed Some Day Or Two, Some Century Or Two, But It Is Sure As Life, It Is Sure As Death.

The First Sin In Our Universe Was Lucifer's Self Conceit.

It Is In General More Profitable To Reckon Up Our Defeats Than To Boast Of Our Attainments.

Laws Themselves, Political Constitutions, Are Not Our Life; But Only The House Wherein Our Life Is Led.

Once The Mind Has Been Expanded By A Big Idea, It Will Never Go Back To Its Original State.

Long Stormy Spring-time, Wet Contentious April, Winter Chilling The Lap Of Very May; But At Length The Season Of Summer Does Come.

In Private Life I Never Knew Anyone Interfere With Other People's Disputes But He Heartily Repented Of It.

Worship Is Transcendent Wonder.

There Is Something In Man Which Your Science Cannot Satisfy.

The Healthy Know Not Of Their Health, But Only The Sick: This Is The Physician's Aphorism, And Applicable In A Far Wider Sense Than He Gives It.

The Press Is The Fourth Estate Of The Realm.

Let Me Have My Own Way In Exactly Everything And A Sunnier And Pleasanter Creature Does Not Exist.

He Who Has Health, Has Hope; And He Who Has Hope, Has Everything.

Silence Is As Deep As Eternity, Speech A Shallow As Time.

I Should Say Sincerity, A Deep, Great, Genuine Sincerity, Is The First Characteristic Of All Men In Any Way Heroic.

The Archenemy Is The Arch Stupid!

Alas! We Know That Ideals Can Never Be Completely Embodied In Practice. Ideals Must Ever Lie A Great Way Off--and We Will Thankfully Content Ourselves With Any Not Intolerable Approximation Thereto! Let No Man, As Schiller Says, Too Querulously "measure By A Scale Of Perfection The Meager Product Of Reality" In This Poor World Of Ours.

Of All The Things Which Man Can Do Or Make Here Below, By Far The Most Momentous, Wonderful, And Worthy Are The Things We Call Books.

Professors Of The Dismal Science, I Perceive The Length Of Your Tether Is Now Pretty Well Run; And I Must Request You To Talk A Little Lower In The Future.

Permanence, Perseverance And Persistence In Spite Of All Obstacle S, Discouragement S, And Impossibilities: It Is This, That In All Things Distinguishes The Strong Soul From The Weak.

He Who First Shortened The Labor Of Copyists By Device Of Movable Types Was Disbanding Hired Armies And Cashiering Most Kings And Senates, And Creating A Whole New Democratic World: He Had Invented The Art Of Printing.

The Battle That Never Ends Is The Battle Of Belief Against Disbelief

Midas-eared Mammonism, Double-barrelled Dilettantism, And Their Thousand Adjuncts And Corollaries, Are Not The Law By Which God Almighty Has Appointed This His Universe To Go.

To Say That We Have A Clear Conscience Is To Utter A Solecism; Had We Never Sinned We Should Have Had No Conscience. Were Defeat Unknown, Neither Would Victory Be Celebrated By Songs Of Triumph.

Goethe's Devil Is A Cultivated Personage And Acquainted With The Modern Sciences; Sneers At Witchcraft And The Black Art Even While Employing Them, And Doubts Most Things, Nay, Half Disbelieves Even His Own Existence.

The Difference Between Socrates And Jesus? The Great Conscious And The Immeasurably Great Unconscious.

Thirty Millions, Mostly Fools.

He Who Takes Not Counsel Of The Unseen And Silent, From Him Will Never Come Real Visibility And Speech.

True Humor Springs Not More From The Head Than From The Heart. It Is Not Contempt; Its Essence Is Love. It Issues Not In Laughter, But In Still Smiles, Which Lie Far Deeper.

No Ghost Was Every Seen By Two Pair Of Eyes.

In This World There Is One Godlike Thing, The Essence Of All That Was Or Ever Will Be Of Godlike In This World: The Veneration Done To Human Worth By The Hearts Of Men.

What An Enormous Magnifier Is Tradition! How A Thing Grows In The Human Memory And In The Human Imagination, When Love, Worship, And All That Lies In The Human Heart, Is There To Encourage It

Blessed Is He Who Has Found His Work; Let Him Ask No Other Blessedness. He Has A Work, A Life-purpose... Get Your Happiness Out Of Your Work Or You Will Never Know What Real Happiness Is... Even In The Meanest Sorts Of Labour, The Whole Soul Of A Man Is Composed Into A Kind Of Real Harmony The Instant He Sets Himself To Work!

There Is In Man A Higher Than Love Of Happiness; He Can Do Without Happiness, And Instead Thereof Find Blessedness.

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