Your death and my death are mainly of importance to ourselves. The black plumes will be stripped off our hearses within the hour; tears will dry, hurt hearts close again, our graves grow level with the church-yard, and although we are away, the world wags on. It does not miss us; and those who are near us, when the first strangeness of vacancy wears off, will not miss us much either.
The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.
Stirling, like a huge brooch, clasps Highlands and Lowlands together.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet: One little hour! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.
The sun was down, And all the west was paved with sullen fire. I cried, Behold! the barren beach of hell At ebb of tide.
Some books are drenchèd sandsOn which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps,Like a wrecked argosy.
Each time we love,We turn a nearer and a broader markTo that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.
One never hugs one's good luck so affectionately as when listening to the relation of some horrible misfortunes which has overtaken others.
A brave soul is a thing which all things serve.
A man can bear a world's contempt when he has that within which says he's worthy. When he contemns himself, there burns the hell.
Eternity doth wear upon her face the veil of time. They only see the veil, and thus they know not what they stand so near!
To sit for one's portrait is like being present at one's own creation.
If the egotist is weak, his egotism is worthless. If the egotist is strong, acute, full of distinctive character, his egotism is precious, and remains a possession of the race.
The world is not so much in need of new thoughts as that when thought grows old and worn with usage it should, like current coin, be called in, and, from the mint of genius, reissued fresh and new.
Trifles make up the happiness or the misery of mortal life.
We have two lives; The soul of man is like the rolling world, One half in day, the other dipt in night; The one has music and the flying cloud, The other, silence and the wakeful stars.
Pleasure has no logic; it never treads in its own footsteps.
Men praise poverty, as the African worships Mumbo Jumbo--from terror of the malign power, and a desire to propitiate at.
To bring the best human qualities to anything like perfection, to fill them with the sweet juices of courtesy and charity, prosperity, or, at all events, a moderate amount of it, is required,--just as sunshine is needed for the ripening of peaches and apricots.
To have to die is a distinction of which no man is proud.
Most brilliant star upon the crest of Time Is England. England!
The truly great rest in the knowledge of their own deserts, nor seek the conformation of the world.
The only thing a man knows is himself.
Thoughts must come naturally, like wild-flowers; they cannot be forced in a hot-bed, even although aided by the leaf-mould of your past.
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