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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.

-Thomas Carlyle

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Foolish Men Imagine That

Thomas Carlyle

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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.

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

With Stupidity And Sound Digestion, Man May Front Much.

The Mystery Of A Person, Indeed, Is Ever Divine To Him That Has A Sense For The Godlike.

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

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.

There Is No Life Of A Man, Faithfully Recorded, But Is A Heroic Poem Of Its Sort, Rhymed Or Unrhymed.

Stop A Moment, Cease Your Work, And Look Around You.

We Are Not Altogether Here To Tolerate. We Are Here To Resist, To Control And Vanquish Withal.

It Is A Fact Which Escapes No One, That, Generally Speaking, Whoso Is Acquainted With His Worth Has But A Little Stock To Cultivate Acquaintance With.

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.

Happy The People Whose Annals Are Blank In History Books!

Blessed Is He Who Has Found His Work; Let Him Ask No Other Blessedness. He Has A Work, A Life-purpose; He Has Found It, And Will Follow It! How, As A Free-flowing Channel, Dug And Torn By Noble Force Through The Sour Mudswamp Of One's Existence, Like An Ever-deepening River There, It Runs And Flows

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

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.

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.

To Me The Universe Was All Void Of Life, Of Purpose, Of Volition, Even Of Hostility; It Was One Huge, Dead, Immeasurable Steam-engine, Rolling On, In Its Dead Indifference, To Grind Me Limb From Limb. Oh Vast Gloomy, Solitary Golgotha, And Mill Of Death! Why Was The Living Banished Thither Companionless, Conscious? Why, If There Is No Devil; Nay, Unless The Devil Is Your God?

The Purpose Of Man Is In Action Not Thought.

Silence Is More Eloquent Than Words.

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.

The Persians Are Called The French Of The East; We Will Call The Arabs Oriental Italians. A Gifted Noble People; A People Of Wildstrong Feelings, And Of Iron Restraint Over These: The Characteristic Of Noblemindedness, Of Genius.

If Those Gentlemen Would Let Me Alone I Should Be Much Obliged To Them. I Would Say, As Shakespeare Would Say... Sweet Friend, For Jesus Sake Forbear.

In The Poorest Cottage Are Books: Is One Book, Wherein For Several Thousands Of Years The Spirit Of Man Has Found Light, And Nourishment, And An Interpreting Response To Whatever Is Deepest In Him.

Song Is The Heroics Of Speech.

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

If Jesus Christ Were To Come Today, People Would Not Even Crucify Him. They Would Ask Him To Dinner, And Hear What He Had To Say, And Make Fun Of It.

There Are Good And Bad Times, But Our Mood Changes More Often Than Our Fortune.

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.

A Mind That Has Seen, And Suffered, And Done, Speaks To Us Of What It Has Tried And Conquered.

I Too Acknowledge The All-out Omnipotence Of Early Culture And Nature; Hereby We Have Either A Doddered Dwarf-bush, Or A High-towering, Wide-shadowing Tree! Either A Sick Yellow Cabbage, Or An Edible Luxuriant Green One. Of A Truth, It Is The Duty Of All Men, Especially Of All Philosophers, To Note Down With Accuracy The Characteristic Circumstances Of Their Education,--what Furthered, What Hindered, What In Any Way Modified It.

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.

Do Not Be Embarrassed By Your Mistakes. Nothing Can Teach Us Better Than Our Understanding Of Them. This Is One Of The Best Ways Of Self-education.

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.

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!

See Deep Enough, And You See Musically.

Music And Healing

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

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.

The Tragedy Of Life Is Not So Much What Men Suffer, But Rather What They Miss.

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

Democracy Will Itself Accomplish The Salutary Universal Change From Delusive To Real, And Make A New Blessed World Of Us By And By.

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

What I Loved In The Man Was His Health, His Unity With Himself; All People And All Things Seemed To Find Their Quite Peaceable Adjustment With Him, Not A Proud Domineering One, As After Doubtful Contest, But A Spontaneous-looking Peaceable, Even Humble One.

The Ideal Is In Thyself, The Impediments Too Is In Thyself.

Variety Is The Condition Of Harmony.

Venerable To Me Is The Hard Hand,--crooked, Coarse,--wherein, Notwithstanding, Lies A Cunning Virtue, Indispensably Royal As Of The Sceptre Of The Planet.

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

Is Not Cant The Materia Prima Of The Devil, From Which All Falsehoods, Imbecilities, Abominations, Body Themselves, From Which No True Thing Can Come? For Cant Is Itself The Properly A Double-distilled Lie, The Second Power Of A Lie.

Statistics, One May Hope, Will Improve Gradually, And Become Good For Something. Meanwhile, It Is To Be Feared The Crabbed Satirist Was Partly Right, As Things Go: "a Judicious Man," Says He, "looks At Statistics, Not To Get Knowledge, But To Save Himself From Having Ignorance Foisted On Him."

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.

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.

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

When The Oak Is Felled The Whole Forest Echoes With It Fall, But A Hundred Acorns Are Sown In Silence By An Unnoticed Breeze.

The Eternal Stars Shine Out Again, So Soon As It Is Dark Enough.

True Friends, Like Ivy And The Wall Both Stand Together, And Together Fall.

Isolation Is The Sum Total Of Wretchedness To A Man.

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

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Without Kindness There Can Be No True Joy.

Skepticism . . . Is Not Intellectual Only It Is Moral Also, A Chronic Atrophy And Disease Of The Whole Soul.

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

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.

We Remove Mountains, And Make Seas Our Smooth Highway; Nothing Can Resist Us. We War With Rude Nature; And, By Our Resistless Engines, Come Off Always Victorious, And Loaded With Spoils.

Why Did Not Somebody Teach Me The Constellations, And Make Me At Home In The Starry Heavens, Which Are Always Overhead, And Which I Don't Half Know To This Day?

War Is A Quarrel Between Two Thieves Too Cowardly To Fight Their Own Battle; Therefore They Take Boys From One Village And Another Village, Stick Them Into Uniforms, Equip Them With Guns, And Let Them Loose Like Wild Beasts Against One Other.

In No Time Whatever Can Small Critics Entirely Eradicate Out Of Living Men's Hearts A Certain Altogether Peculiar Collar Reverence For Great Men--genuine Admiration, Loyalty, Adora-tion.

The Actual Well Seen Is Ideal.

The Past Is All Holy To Us; The Dead Are All Holy; Even They That Were Wicked When Alive.

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.

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

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History Is A Great Dust Heap.

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

A Person With Half Volition Goes Backwards And Forwards, But Makes No Progress On Even The Smoothest Of Roads.

Not What You Possess But What You Do With What You Have, Determines Your True Worth.

Overconsumption

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

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

Delirium Tremens

There Is No Heroic Poem In The World But Is At Bottom A Biography, The Life Of A Man.

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.

The Condition Of The Most Passionate Enthusiast Is To Be Preferred Over The Individual Who, Because Of The Fear Of Making A Mistake, Won't In The End Affirm Or Deny Anything

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

Fame, We May Understand, Is No Sure Test Of Merit, But Only A Probability Of Such; It Is An Accident, Not A Property Of Man.

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

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

O Thou Who Art Able To Write A Book Which Once In The Two Centuries Or Oftener There Is A Man Gifted To Do, Envy Not Him Whom They Name City-builder, And Inexpressibly Pity Him Whom They Name Conqueror Or City-burner.

To The Mean Eye All Things Are Trivial, As Certainly As To The Jaundiced They Are Yellow.

No Age Seemed The Age Of Romance To Itself.

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.

No Person Is Important Enough To Make Me Angry.

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

Over The Times Thou Hast No Power. . . . Solely Over One Man Thou Hast Quite Absolute Power. Him Redeem And Make Honest.

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?

Just In Ratio As Knowledge Increases, Faith Diminishes.

No Man Is Born Without Ambitious Worldly Desires.

There Is No Permanent Place In This Universe For Evil... Evil May Hide Behind This Fallacy And That, But It Will Be Hunted From Fallacy To Fallacy Until There Is No More Fallacy For It To Hide Behind.

What Are Your Axioms, And Categories, And Systems, And Aphorisms? Words, Words.... Be Not The Slave Of Words.

The Greatest Of All Heroes Is One--whom We Do Not Name Here! Let Sacred Silence Meditate That Sacred Matter; You Will Find It The Ultimate Perfection Of A Principle Extant Throughout Man's Whole History On Earth.

The All Of Things Is An Infinite Conjugation Of The Verb To Do .

A Man--be The Heavens Ever Praised!--is Sufficient For Himself.

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

Show Me The Person You Honor, For I Know Better By That The Kind Of Person You Are. For You Show Me What Your Idea Of Humanity Is.

Burke Said There Were Three Estates In Parliament; But, In The Reporter's Gallery Yonder, There Sat A Fourth Estate More Important Far Than They All.

Culture Is The Process By Which A Person Becomes All That They Were Created Capable Of Being.

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.

There Is Often More Spiritual Force In A Proverb Than In Whole Philosophical Systems.

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?

We Have Profoundly Forgotten Everywhere That Cash-payment Is Not The Sole Relation Of Human Beings.

Literature Is The Thought Of Thinking Souls.

We Have Our Little Theory On All Human And Divine Things. Poetry, The Workings Of Genius Itself, Which, In All Times, With One Or Another Meaning, Has Been Called Inspiration, And Held To Be Mysterious And Inscrutable, Is No Longer Without Its Scientific Exposition. The Building Of The Lofty Rhyme Is Like Any Other Masonry Or Bricklaying: We Have Theories Of Its Rise, Height, Decline And Fall -- Which Latter, It Would Seem, Is Now Near, Among All People.

Macaulay Is Well For Awhile, But One Wouldn't Live Under Niagara.

The Deadliest Sin Were The Consciousness Of No Sin

A Person With A Clear Purpose Will Make Progress, Even On The Roughest Road. A Person With No Purpose Will Make No Progress, Even On The Smoothest Road.

Nature Is The Time-vesture Of God That Reveals Him To The Wise, And Hides Him From The Foolish.

The Secret Of Business Is To Know Something That Nobody Else Knows. The Greatest Of Faults, I Should Say Is To Be Conscious Of None.

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

The Times Are Very Bad. Very Well, You Are There To Make Them Better.

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

No Sooner Does A Great Man Depart, And Leave His Character As Public Property, Than A Crowd Of Little Men Rushes Towards It. There They Are Gathered Together, Blinking Up To It With Such Vision As They Have, Scanning It From Afar, Hovering Round It This Way And That, Each Cunningly Endeavoring, By All Arts, To Catch Some Reflex Of It In The Little Mirror Of Himself.

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.

Freedom Is The One Purport, Wisely Aimed At, Or Unwisely, Of All Man's Struggles, Toilings And Sufferings, In This Earth.

Men Are Grown Mechanical In Head And In The Heart, As Well As In The Hand. They Have Lost Faith In Individual Endeavour, And In Natural Force Of Any Kind.

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

Nothing That Was Worthy In The Past Departs; No Truth Or Goodness Realized By Man Ever Dies, Or Can Die.

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

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.

Man's Unhappiness, As I Construe, Comes Of His Greatness; It Is Because There Is An Infinite In Him, With Which All His Cunning He Cannot Quite Bury Under The Finite... Try Him With Half Of A Universe, Of An Omnipotence, He Sets To Quarreling With The Proprietor Of The Other Half, And Declares Himself The Most Maltreated Of Men. Always There Is A Black Spot In Our Sunshine: It Is Even, As I Said, The Shadow Of Ourselves.

The Fearful Unbelief Is Unbelief In Yourself.

When We Can Drain The Ocean Into Mill-ponds, And Bottle Up The Force Of Gravity, To Be Sold By Retail, In Gas Jars; Then May We Hope To Comprehend The Infinitudes Of Man's Soul Under Formulas Of Profit And Loss; And Rule Over This Too, As Over A Patent Engine, By Checks, And Valves, And Balances.

Have A Purpose In Life, And Having It, Throw Into Your Work Such Strength Of Mind And Muscle As God Has Given You.

Thirty Millions, Mostly Fools.

We Do Everything By Custom, Even Believe By It; Our Very Axioms, Let Us Boast Of Free-thinking As We May, Are Oftenest Simply Such Beliefs As We Have Never Heard Questioned.

All That Mankind Has Done, Thought Or Been: It Is Lying As In Magic Preservation In The Pages Of Books.

The Fine Arts Once Divorcing Themselves From Truth Are Quite Certain To Fall Mad, If They Do Not Die.

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.

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

All Great Peoples Are Conservative.

Every Noble Work Is At First Impossible.

Inspirational Life

Biography Is The Most Universally Pleasant And Profitable Of All Reading.

Genius Is An Infinite Capacity For Taking Pains.

The King Is The Man Who Can.

The Press Is The Fourth Estate Of The Realm.

The Barrenest Of All Mortals Is The Sentimentalist.

Is Not Every Meanest Day The Confluence Of Two Eternities?

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

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

It Is No Very Good Symptom, Either Of Nations Or Individuals, That They Deal Much In Vaticination. Happy Men Are Full Of The Present, For Its Bounty Suffices Them; And Wise Men Also, For Its Duties Engage Them. Our Grand Business Undoubtedly Is Not To See What Lies Dimly At A Distance, But To Do What Clearly Lies At Hand.

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

Taste, If It Mean Anything But A Paltry Connoisseurship, Must Mean A General Susceptibility To Truth And Nobleness, A Sense To Discern, And A Heart To Love And Reverence All Beauty, Order, Goodness, Wheresoever, Or In Whatsoever Forms And Accompaniments They Are To Be Seen. This Surely Implies, As Its Chief Condition, Not Any Given External Rank Or Situation, But A Finely-gifted Mind, Purified Into Harmony With Itself, Into Keenness And Justness Of Vision; Above All, Kindled Into Love And Generous Admiration.

It Is A Mathematical Fact That The Casting Of This Pebble From My Hand Alters The Centre Of Gravity Of The Universe.

A Noble Book! All Men's Book!

We Call That Fire Of The Black Thunder-cloud "electricity," And Lecture Learnedly About It, And Grind The Like Of It Out Of Glass And Silk: But What Is It? What Made It? Whence Comes It? Whither Goes It?

The Public Is Anold Woman.let Her Maunderand Mumble.

A Thought Once Awakened Does Not Again Slumber.

Earnestness Alone Makes Life Eternity.

The Genuine Essence Of Truth Never Dies.

The Great Man's Sincerity Is Of The Kind He Cannot Speak Of, Is Not Conscious Of: Nay, I Suppose, He Is Conscious Rather Of Insincerity; For What Man Can Walk Accurately By The Law Of Truth For One Day? No, The Great Man Does Not Boast Himself Sincere, Far From That; Perhaps Does Not Ask Himself If He Is So: I Would Say Rather, His Sincerity Does Not Depend On Himself; He Cannot Help Being Sincere!

Labor Is Life: From The Inmost Heart Of The Worker Rises His God-given Force, The Sacred Celestial Life-essence Breathed Into Him By Almighty God!

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?

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

Youth Is To All The Glad Season Of Life; But Often Only By What It Hopes, Not By What It Attains, Or What It Escapes.

I Have Seen Gleams In The Face And Eyes Of The Man That Have Let You Look Into A Higher Country.

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

Parliament Will Train You To Talk; And Above All Things To Hear, With Patience, Unlimited Quantities Of Foolish Talk.

All Comes Out Even At The End Of The Day.

The End Of The Day

Debt Is A Bottomless Sea.

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.

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.

Science Must Have Originated In The Feeling That Something Was Wrong.

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.

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?

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

All True Work Is Sacred. In All True Work, Were It But True Hand Work, There Is Something Of Divineness. Labor, Wide As The Earth, Has Its Summit In Heaven.

Nay, In Every Epoch Of The World, The Great Event, Parent Of All Others, Is It Not The Arrival Of A Thinker In The World?

Man Is, And Was Always, A Block-head And Dullard; Much Readier To Feel And Digest, Than To Think And Consider.

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.

He That Will Not Work According To His Faculty, Let Him Perish According To His Necessity: There Is No Law Juster Than That.

To Know, To Get Into The Truth Of Anything, Is Ever A Mystic Art, Of Which The Best Logic's Can But Babble On The Surface.

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

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.

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.

Laughter Means Sympathy.

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

They Only Are Wise Who Know That They Know Nothing.

The Thing Is Not Only To Avoid Error, But To Attain Immense Masses Of Truth.

The Weakest Living Creature, By Concentrating His Powers On A Single Object, Can Accomplish Something. The Strongest, By Dispensing His Over Many, May Fail To Accomplish Anything. The Drop, By Continually Falling, Bores Its Passage Through The Hardest Rock. The Hasty Torrent Rushes Over It With Hideous Uproar, And Leaves No Trace Behind.

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

The Vulgarity Of Inanimate Things Requires Time To Get Accustomed To; But Living, Breathing, Bustling, Plotting, Planning, Human Vulgarity Is A Species Of Moral Ipecacuanha, Enough To Destroy Any Comfort.

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

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

If I Say That Shakespeare Is The Greatest Of Intellects, I Have Said All Concerning Him. But There Is More In Shakespeare's Intellect Than We Have Yet Seen. It Is What I Call An Unconscious Intellect; There Is More Virtue In It That He Himself Is Aware Of.

Every Noble Crown Is, And On Earth Will Forever Be, A Crown Of Thorns.

God Gave You That Gifted Tongue Of Yours, And Set It Between Your Teeth, To Make Known Your True Meaning To Us, Not To Be Rattled Like A Muffin Man's Bell.

So Here Hath Been Dawning Another Blue Day; Think, Wilt Thou Let It Slip Useless Away? Out Of Eternity This New Day Is Born, Into Eternity At Night Will Return.

The Authentic Insight And Experience Of Any Human Soul, Were It But Insight And Experience In Hewing Of Wood And Drawing Of Water, Is Real Knowledge, A Real Possession And Acquirement.

The Essence Of Humor Is Sensibility; Warm, Tender Fellow-feeling With All Forms Of Existence.

Innumerable Are The Illusions And Legerdemain-tricks Of Custom: But Of All Of These, Perhaps The Cleverest Is Her Knack Of Persuading Us That The Miraculous, By Simple Repetition, Ceases To Be Miraculous.

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

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

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.

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

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

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