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Except By Name, Jean Paul Friedrich Richter Is Little Known Out Of Germany. The Only Thing Connected With Him, We Think, That Has Reached This Country Is His Saying,-imported By Madame De Staël, And Thankfully Pocketed By Most Newspaper Critics,-"providence Has Given To The French The Empire Of The Land; To The English That Of The Sea; To The Germans That Of-the Air!" Richter: German Humorist & Prose Writer.

-Thomas Carlyle

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Except By Name, Jean

Thomas Carlyle

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Except By Name, Jean Paul Friedrich Richter Is Little Known Out Of Germany. The Only Thing Connected With Him, We Think, That Has Reached This Country Is His Saying,-imported By Madame De Staël, And Thankfully Pocketed By Most Newspaper Critics,-"providence Has Given To The French The Empire Of The Land; To The English That Of The Sea; To The Germans That Of-the Air!" Richter: German Humorist & Prose Writer.

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Respectable Professors Of The Dismal Science.

"love Is Not Altogether A Delirium," Says He Elsewhere; "yet Has It Many Points In Common Therewith."

Delirium Tremens

Silence Is More Eloquent Than Words.

Neither Let Mistakes And Wrong Directions - Of Which Every Man, In His Studies And Elsewhere, Falls Into Many - Discourage You. There Is Precious Instruction To Be Got By Finding That We Are Wrong. Let A Man Try Faithfully, Manfully To Be Right, He Will Grow Daily More And More Right. It Is, At Bottom, The Condition Which All Men Have To Cultivate Themselves. Our Very Walking Is An Incessant Falling - A Falling And A Catching Of Ourselves Before We Come Actually To The Pavement! - It Is Emblematic Of All Things A Man Does.

How Were Friendship Possible? In Mutual Devotedness To The Good And True; Otherwise Impossible, Except As Armed Neutrality Or Hollow Commercial League. A Man, Be The Heavens Ever Praised, Is Sufficient For Himself; Yet Were Ten Men, United In Love, Capable Of Being And Of Doing What Ten Thousand Singly Would Fail In. Infinite Is The Help Man Can Yield To Man.

In A Certain Sense All Men Are Historians.

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

At Worst, Is Not This An Unjust World, Full Of Nothing But Beasts Of Prey, Four-footed Or Two-footed?

Language Is Called The Garment Of Thought: However, It Should Rather Be, Language Is The Flesh-garment, The Body, Of Thought.

The Greatest Mistake Is To Imagine That We Never Err.

In Books Lies The Soul Of The Whole Past Time; The Articulate Audible Voice Of The Past, When The Body And Material Substance Of It Has Altogether Vanished Like A Dream.

Silence, The Great Empire Of Silence: Higher Than All Stars; Deeper Than The Kingdom Of Death! It Alone Is Great; All Else Is Small.

The Latest Gospel In This World Is, Know Thy Work And Do It.

Reform Is Not Pleasant, But Grievous; No Person Can Reform Themselves Without Suffering And Hard Work, How Much Less A Nation.

Self-contemplation Is Infallibly The Symptom Of Disease.

Leaders: Captains Of Industry.

A Witty Statesman Said, You Might Prove Anything By Figures.

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?

Democracy Is, By The Nature Of It, A Self-canceling Business: And Gives In The Long Run A Net Result Of Zero.

Is Not Every Meanest Day The Confluence Of Two Eternities?

Violence Does Even Justice Unjustly.

If I Had My Way, The World Would Hear A Pretty Stern Command - Exit Christ.

Not One False Man But Doth Uncountable Evil.

Poverty, We May Say, Surrounds A Man With Ready-made Barriers, Which If They Do Mournfully Gall And Hamper, Do At Least Prescribe For Him, And Force On Him, A Sort Of Course And Goal; A Safe And Beaten, Though A Circuitous, Course. A Great Part Of His Guidance Is Secure Against Fatal Error, Is Withdrawn From His Control. The Rich, Again, Has His Whole Life To Guide, Without Goal Or Barrier, Save Of His Own Choosing, And, Tempted, Is Too Likely To Guide It Ill.

Tell A Person They Are Brave And You Help Them Become So.

The Glory Of A Workman, Still More Of A Master Workman, That He Does His Work Well, Ought To Be His Most Precious Possession; Like The Honor Of A Soldier, Dearer To Him Than Life.

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?

The Real Use Of Gunpowder Is To Make All Men Tall.

'genius' Which Means Transcendent Capacity Of Taking Trouble, First Of All.

Have Not I Myself Known Five Hundred Living Soldiers Sabred Into Crows' Meat For A Piece Of Glazed Cotton, Which They Call Their Flag; Which Had You Sold It At Any Market-cross, Would Not Have Brought Above Three Groschen?

The World Is An Old Woman, And Mistakes Any Gilt Farthing For A Gold Coin; Whereby Being Often Cheated, She Will Thenceforth Trust Nothing But The Common Copper.

All True Work Is Sacred.

A Fundamental Mistake To Call Vehemence And Rigidity Strength! A Man Is Not Strong Who Takes Convulsion-fits; Though Six Men Cannot Hold Him Then. He That Can Walk Under The Heaviest Weight Without Staggering, He Is The Strong Man . . . A Man Who Cannot Hold His Peace, Till The Time Come For Speaking And Acting, Is No Right Man.

It's A Man's Sincerity And Depth Of Vision That Makes Him A Poet.

Metaphysics Is The Attempt Of The Mind To Rise Above The Mind.

Books Are A Triviality. Life Alone Is Great.

The Only Happiness A Brave Person Ever Troubles Themselves In Asking About, Is Happiness Enough To Get Their Work Done.

History Is The New Poetry.

Genius Is An Infinite Capacity For Taking Pains.

And There Are Ben [jonson] And William Shakespeare In Wit-combat, Sure Enough; Ben Bearing Down Like A Mighty Spanish War-ship, Fraught With All Learning And Artillery; Shakespeare Whisking Away From Him - Whisking Right Through Him, Athwart The Big Bulk And Timbers Of Him; Like A Miraculous Celestial Light-ship, Woven All Of Sheet-lightning And Sunbeams!

One Is Weary Of Hearing About The Omnipotence Of Money. I Will Say Rather That, For A Genuine Man, It Is Not Evil To Be Poor.

The Merit Of Originality Is Not Novelty; It Is Sincerity.

He Who Would Write Heroic Poems Should Make His Whole Life A Heroic Poem.

O Poor Mortals, How Ye Make This Earth Bitter For Each Other.

Happy Season Of Virtuous Youth, When Shame Is Still An Impassable Barrier, And The Sacred Air-cities Of Hope Have Not Shrunk Into The Mean Clay Hamlets Of Reality; And Man, By His Nature, Is Yet Infinite And Free.

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

Funny Basketball

Democracy Means Despair Of Finding Any Heroes To Govern You, And Contented Putting Up With The Want Of Them.

Unity, Agreement, Is Always Silent Or Soft-voiced; It Is Only Discord That Loudly Proclaims Itself.

Thought Is The Parent Of The Deed.

Men Worship The Shows Of Great Men; The Most Disbelieve That There Is Any Reality Of Great Men To Worship.

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

Earnestness Alone Makes Life Eternity.

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.

A Background Of Wrath, Which Can Be Stirred Up To The Murderous Infernal Pitch, Does Lie In Every Man.

Clean Undeniable Right, Clear Undeniable Might: Either Of These Once Ascertained Puts An End To Battle. All Battle Is A Confused Experiment To Ascertain One And Both Of These.

Battles, In These Ages, Are Transacted By Mechanism; With The Slightest Possible Development Of Human Individuality Or Spontaneity; Men Now Even Die, And Kill One Another, In An Artificial Manner.

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.

No Man Lives Without Jostling And Being Jostled; In All Ways He Has To Elbow Himself Through The World, Giving And Receiving Offence.

Out Of Eternity The New Day Is Born; Into Eternity At Night Will Return.

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.

Except By Name, Jean Paul Friedrich Richter Is Little Known Out Of Germany. The Only Thing Connected With Him, We Think, That Has Reached This Country Is His Saying,-imported By Madame De Staël, And Thankfully Pocketed By Most Newspaper Critics,-"providence Has Given To The French The Empire Of The Land; To The English That Of The Sea; To The Germans That Of-the Air!" Richter: German Humorist & Prose Writer.

Experience Takes Dreadfully High School-wages, But He Teaches Like No Other.

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

Life Is A Series Of Lessons That Have To Be Understood.

The Mathematics Of High Achievement

Coining "dismal Science" As A Nickname For Political Economy

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.

He That Has A Secret Should Not Only Hide It, But Hide That He Has It To Hide.

They Have Their Belief, These Poor Tibet People, That Providence Sends Down Always An Incarnation Of Himself Into Every Generation. At Bottom Some Belief In A Kind Of Pope! At Bottom Still Better, A Belief That There Is A Greatest Man; That He Is Discoverable; That, Once Discovered, We Ought To Treat Him With An Obedience Which Knows No Bounds. This Is The Truth Of Grand Lamaism; The "discoverability" Is The Only Error Here.

To Be True Is Manly, Chivalrous, Christian; To Be False Is Mean, Cowardly, Devilish.

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

Success In Life, In Anything, Depends Upon The Number Of Persons That One Can Make Himself Agreeable To.

Success In Life

Time Has Only A Relative Existence.

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.

O Heaven, It Is Mysterious, It Is Awful To Consider That We Not Only Carry Each A Future Ghost Within Him; But Are, In Very Deed, Ghosts!

The Archenemy Is The Arch Stupid!

One Life; A Little Gleam Of Time Between Two Eternities; No Second Chance To Us For Evermore!

Action Hangs, As It Were, Dissolved In Speech, In Thoughts Whereof Speech Is The Shadow; And Precipitates Itself Therefrom. The Kind Of Speech In A Man Betokens The Kind Of Action You Will Get From Him.

No Man At Bottom Means Injustice; It Is Always For Some Obscure Distorted Image Of A Right That He Contends: An Obscure Image Diffracted, Exaggerated, In The Wonderfulest Way By Natural Dimness And Selfishness; Getting Tenfold More Diffracted By Exasperation Of Contest, Till At Length It Become All But Irrecognis-able.

If A Book Comes From The Heart, It Will Contrive To Reach Other Hearts; All Art And Author-craft Are Of Small Amount To That.

A Man Willing To Work, And Unable To Find Work, Is Perhaps The Saddest Sight That Fortune's Inequality Exhibits Under This Sun.

To The Wisest Man, Wide As Is His Vision. Nature Remains Of Quite Infinite Depth, Of Quite Infinite Expansion And All Experience Thereof Limits Itself To Some Few Computed Centuries And Measured Square Miles.

There Are Depths In Man That Go To The Lowest Hell, And Heights That Reach The Highest Heaven, For Are Not Both Heaven And Hell Made Out Of Him, Everlasting Miracle And Mystery That He Is.

Blessed Be The God's Voice; For It Is True, And Falsehoods Have To Cease Before It!

The Goal Of Yesterday Will Be Our Starting-point To-morrow.

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.

Properly Speaking, All True Work Is Religion.

Let A Man Try Faithfully, Manfully To Be Right; He Will Grow Daily More And More Right. It Is At Bottom The Condition On Which All Men Have To Cultivate Themselves.

Doubt Of Any Kind Cannot Be Resolved Except By Action.

A Poor Creature Who Has Said Or Done Nothing Worth A Serious Man Taking The Trouble Of Remembering.

Close Thy Byron ; Open Thy Goethe .

We Have Not The Love Of Greatness, But The Love Of The Love Of Greatness.

Persons, With Big Wigs Many Of Them And Austere Aspect, Whom I Take To Be Professors Of The Dismal Science… Coining “dismal Science” As A Nickname For Political Economy

I Have No Patience Whatever With These Gorilla Damnifications Of Humanity.

There Is A Majesty And Mystery In Nature, Take Her As You Will. The Essence Of Poetry Comes Breathing To A Mind That Feels From Every Province Of Her Empire.

What Is Philosophy But A Continual Battle Against Custom?

Are We Not Spirits, That Are Shaped Into A Body, Into An Appearance; And That Fade Away Again Into Air And Invisibility? Oh, Heaven, It Is Mysterious, It Is Awful To Consider That We Not Only Carry A Future Ghost Within Us; But Are, In Very Deed, Ghosts! These Limbs, Whence Had We Them; This Stormy Force; This Life-blood With Its Burning Passion? They Are Dust And Shadow; A Shadow-system Gathered Round Our Me; Wherein, Through Some Moments Or Years, The Divine Essence Is To Be Revealed In The Flesh.

Speech Is Too Often Not The Art Of Concealing Thought, But Of Quite Stifling And Suspending Thought, So That There Is None To Conceal.

A Man's Felicity Consists Not In The Outward And Visible Blessing Of Fortune, But In The Inward And Unseen Perfections And Riches Of The Mind.

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.

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

Heroes Have Gone Out; Quacks Have Come In; The Reign Of Quacks Has Not Ended With The Nineteenth Century. The Sceptre Is Held With A Firmer Grasp; The Empire Has A Wider Boundary. We Are All The Slaves Of Quackery In One Shape Or Another. Indeed, One Portion Of Our Being Is Always Playing The Successful Quack To The Other.

Quackery Gives Birth To Nothing; Gives Death To All Things.

Hero-worship Exists, Has Existed, And Will Forever Exist, Universally, Among Mankind.

All Human Souls, Never So Bedarkened, Love Light; Light Once Kindled Spreads Till All Is Luminous.

Doubt, Of Whatever Kind, Can Be Ended By Action Alone.

All Work Is As Seed Sown; It Grows And Spreads, And Sows Itself Anew.

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.

Narrative Is Linear, But Action Has Breadth And Depth As Well As Height And Is Solid.

Evil And Good Are Everywhere, Like Shadow And Substance; Inseparable (for Men) Yet Not Hostile, Only Opposed.

The Modern Majesty Consists In Work. What A Man Can Do Is His Greatest Ornament, And He Always Consults His Dignity By Doing It.

Neither Had Watt Of The Steam Engine A Heroic Origin, Any Kindred With The Princes Of This World. The Princes Of This World Were Shooting Their Partridges... While This Man With Blackened Fingers, With Grim Brow, Was Searching Out, In His Workshop, The Fire-secret.

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.

The Stifled Hum Of Midnight, When Traffic Has Lain Down To Rest, And The Chariot Wheels Of Vanity, Still Rolling Here And There Through Distant Streets, Are Bearing Her To Halls Roofed In And Lighted To The Due Pitch For Her; And Only Vice And Misery, To Prowl Or To Moan Like Night Birds, Are Abroad.

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.

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

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

France Was Long A Despotism Tempered By Epigrams.

Debt Is A Bottomless Sea.

To The Vulgar Eye, Few Things Are Wonderful That Are Not Distant

Laughter Means Sympathy.

I Never Heard Tell Of Any Clever Man That Came Of Entirely Stupid People.

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

This London City, With All Of Its Houses, Palaces, Steam-engines, Cathedrals, And Huge Immeasurable Traffic An Tumult, What Is It But A Thought, But Millions Of Thoughts Made Into One-a Huge Immeasurable Spirit Of A Thought, Embodied In Brick, In Iron, Smoke, Dust, Palaces, Parliaments, Hackney Coaches, Katherine Docks, And The Rest Of It! Not A Brick Was Made But Some Man Had To Think Of The Making Of That Brick.

Everywhere The Human Soul Stands Between A Hemisphere Of Light And Another Of Darkness On The Confines Of Two Everlasting Empires, - Necessity And Free Will.

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

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

Just In The Ratio Knowledge Increases, Faith Decreases.

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

I Know So Little About Any History. How Little Do I Know Even About The History Of Myself.

See Deep Enough, And You See Musically.

Music And Healing

Nothing Ever Happens But Once In All This World. What I Do Now I Do Once For All. It Is Over And Gone, With All Its Eternity Of Solemn Meaning.

That Great Mystery Of Time, Were There No Other; The Illimitable, Silent, Never-resting Thing Called Time, Rolling, Rushing On, Swift, Silent, Like An All-embracing Ocean Tide, On Which We And All The Universe Swim Like Exhalations, Like Apparitions Which Are, And Then Are Not: This Is Forever Very Literally A Miracle; A Thing To Strike Us Dumb,-for We Have No Word To Speak About It.

Teach A Parrot The Terms 'supply And Demand' And You've Got An Economist.

The First Duty Of Man Is That Of Subduing Fear.

Heroes, It Would Seem, Exist Always And A Certain Worship Of Them.

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.

A Loving Heart Is The Beginning Of All Knowledge.

Blessed Is He Who Has Found His Work; Let Him Ask No Other Blessedness.

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.

If An Eloquent Speaker Speak Not The Truth, Is There A More Horrid Kind Of Object In Creation?

Custom Doth Make Dotards Of Us All.

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

Faith Is Loyalty To Some Inspired Teacher, Some Spiritual Hero.

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

Pin Thy Faith To No Man's Sleeve. Hast Thou Not Two Eyes Of Thy Own?

Misery Which, Through Long Ages, Had No Spokesman, No Helper, Will Now Be Its Own Helper And Speak For Itself.

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.

Of Our Thinking It Is But The Upper Surface That We Shape Into Articulate Thought; Underneath The Region Of Argument And Conscious Discourse Lies The Region Of Meditation.

The Man Who Cannot Wonder, Who Does Not Habitually Wonder (and Worship), Were He President Of Innumerable Royal Societies, And Carried The Whole Mecanique Celeste And Hegel's Philosophy, And The Epitome Of All Laboratories And Observatories With Their Results, In His Single Head, Is But A Pair Of Spectacles Behind Which There Is No Eye. Let Those Who Have Eyes Look Through Him, Then He May Be Useful.

Democracy Will Prevail When Men Believe The Vote Of Judas As Good As That Of Jesus Christ.

Stern Accuracy In Inquiring, Bold Imagination In Describing, These Are The Cogs On Which History Soars Or Flutters And Wobbles.

So Much Of Truth, Only Under An Ancient Obsolete Vesture, But The Spirit Of It Still True, Do I Find In The Paganism Of Old Nations. Nature Is Still Divine, The Revelation Of The Workings Of God; The Hero Is Still Worshipable: This, Under Poor Cramped Incipient Forms, Is What All Pagan Religions Have Struggled, As They Could, To Set Forth.

Music Is Well Said To Be The Speech Of Angels; In Fact, Nothing Among The Utterances Allowed To Man Is Felt To Be So Divine. It Brings Us Near To The Infinite.

Lies Exist Only To Be Extinguished.

There Can Be No Acting Or Doing Of Any Kind Till It Be Recognized That There Is A Thing To Be Done; The Thing Once Recognized, Doing In A Thousand Shapes Becomes Possible.

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

There Are Remedies For All Things But Death.

Not Only Was Thebes Built By The Music Of An Orpheus; But Without The Music Of Some Inspired Orpheus Was No City Ever Built, No Work That Man Glories In Ever Done.

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

History Is The Essence Of Innumerable Biographies.

Generations Are As The Days Of Toilsome Mankind; Death And Birth Are The Vesper And The Matin Bells That Summon Mankind To Sleep And To Rise Refreshed For New Advancement. What The Father Has Made, The Son Can Make And Enjoy; But Has Also Work Of His Own Appointed Him. Thus All Things Wax And Roll Onwards: Arts, Establishments, Opinions, Nothing Is Ever Completed, But Ever Completing.

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

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

A Strong Mind Always Hopes, And Has Always Cause To Hope.

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.

I Don't Pretend To Understand The Universe - It's A Great Deal Bigger Than I Am.

Affectation Is The Product Of Falsehood.

I Call That [book Of Job], Apart From All Theories About It, One Of The Grandest Things Ever Written With Pen.

To Reform A World, To Reform A Nation, No Wise Man Will Undertake; And All But Foolish Men Know, That The Only Solid, Though A Far Slower Reformation, Is What Each Begins And Perfects On Himself.

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

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.

No Nobler Feeling Than This, Of Admiration For One Higher Than Himself, Dwells In The Breast Of Man. It Is To This Hour, And At All Hours, The Vivifying Influence In Man's Life.

All Work Of Man Is As The Swimmer's: A Vast Ocean Threatens To Devour Him; If He Front It Not Bravely, It Will Keep Its Word.

God Almighty Never Created A Man Half As Wise As He Looks.

No Good Book, Or Good Thing Of Any Sort, Shows Its Best Face At First.

How Great A Possibility, How Small A Realized Result.

Man Is, Properly Speaking, Based Upon Hope, He Has No Other Possession But Hope; This World Of His Is Emphatically The Place Of Hope.

Fire Is The Best Of Servants, But What A Master!

Let Him Who Would Move And Convince Others, Be First Moved And Convinced Himself.

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

A Man Lives By Believing Something.

Laissez-faire, Supply And Demand-one Begins To Be Weary Of All That. Leave All To Egotism, To Ravenous Greed Of Money, Of Pleasure, Of Applause-it Is The Gospel Of Despair.

As There Is No Danger Of Our Becoming, Any Of Us, Mahometans (i.e. Muslim), I Mean To Say All The Good Of Him I Justly Can.

In Idleness There Is A Perpetual Despair.

No Man Is Born Without Ambitious Worldly Desires.

Let Time And Chance Combine, Combine! Let Time And Chance Combine! The Fairest Love From Heaven Above, That Love Of Yours Was Mine, My Dear! That Love Of Yours Was Mine.

Acorns Are Planted Silently By Some Unnoticed Breeze.

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

Talk That Does Not End In Any Kind Of Action Is Better Suppressed Altogether.

The Person Who Cannot Laugh Is Not Only Ready For Treason, And Deceptions, Their Whole Life Is Already A Treason And Deception.

The Actual Well Seen Is Ideal.

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.

Trust Not The Heart Of That Man For Whom Old Clothes Are Not Venerable.

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

No Iron Chain, Or Outward Force Of Any Kind, Can Ever Compel The Soul Of A Person To Believe Or To Disbelieve.

The Choking, Sweltering, Deadly, And Killing Rule Of No Rule; The Consecration Of Cupidity And Braying Of Folly, And Dim Stupidity And Baseness, In Most Of The Affairs Of Men. Slopshirts Attainable Three-halfpence Cheaper By The Ruin Of Living Bodies And Immortal Souls.

Every Man Has A Coward And Hero In His Soul.

A Man Without A Goal Is Like A Ship Without A Rudder.

A Man Lives By Believing Something: Not By Debating And Arguing About Many Things.

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