Rhetoric completes the tools of learning. Dialectic zeros in on the logic of things, of particular systems of thought or subjects. Rhetoric takes the next grand step and brings all these subjects together into one whole.
Acts themselves alone are history, and these are neither the exclusive property of Hume, Gibbon nor Voltaire, Echard, Rapin, Plutarch, nor Herodotus. Tell me the Acts, O historian, and leave me to reason upon them as I please; away with your reasoning and your rubbish. All that is not action is not worth reading.
The pure soul shall mount on native wings, . . . and cut a path into the heaven of glory.
Men are admitted into heaven not because they have curbed or governed their passions, but because they have cultivate their understandings.
Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!
Father, O father! what do we here In this land of unbelief and fear?
To my eye Rubens' colouring is most contemptible. His shadows are a filthy brown somewhat the colour of excrement.
Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold, But the Ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm.
To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower.
I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An angel came. He winked at the thief And smiled at the dame- And without one word spoke Had a peach from the tree, And 'twixt earnest and joke Enjoyed the lady.
The gulfing whale was like a dot in the spell. Yet look upon it, and 'twould size and swell To its huge self, and the minutest fish Would pass the very hardest gazer's wish, And show his little eye's anatomy.
To cast aside from Poetry, all that is not Inspiration
He who pretends to be either painter or engraver without being a master of drawing is an imposter.
The grave is Heaven's golden gate, And rich and poor around it wait; O Shepherdess of England's fold, Behold this gate of pearl and gold!
I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall.
To Chloe's breast young Cupid slily stole, But he crept in at Myra's pocket-hole.
She who dwells with me whom I have loved with such communion, that no place on earth can ever be solitude to me.
I'm sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.
The Fool shall not enter into Heaven let him be ever so Holy.
The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could perceive.
All pictures that's painted with sense and with thought / Are painted by madmen as sure as a groat; / For the greater the fool in the pencil more blest, / And when they are drunk they always paint best.
Thou art a man God is no more Thy own humanity Learn to adore
How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!
Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy? Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?
Since the French Revolution Englishmen are all intermeasurable one by another, certainly a happy state of agreement to which I forone do not agree.
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