Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels diseases, softens every pain.
The most beautiful form of compromise is forgiveness.
For want of timely care Millions have died of medicable wounds.
How happy he whose toil Has o'er his languid pow'rless limbs diffus'd A pleasing lassitude; he not in vain Invokes the gentle Deity of dreams. His pow'rs the most voluptuously dissolve In soft repose; on him the balmy dews Of Sleep with double nutriment descend.
Know, then, whatever cheerful and serene supports the mind supports the body too.
You don't ask a juggler which ball is highest in priority. Success is to do it all.
One’s relationship with money is lifelong, it colors one’s sense of identity, it shapes one’s attitude to other people, it connects and splits generations; money is the arena in which greed and generosity are played out, in which wisdom is exercised and folly committed. Freedom, desire, power, status, work, possession: these huge ideas that rule life are enacted, almost always, in and around money.
Imagination paints a charming view of the future, conveniently adapted to the demands of our current emotion.
There is, they say, (and I believe there is), A spark within us of th' immortal fire, That animates and moulds the grosser frame; And when the body sinks, escapes to heaven; Its native seat, and mixes with the gods.
How sickly grow, How pale, the plants in those ill-fated vales That, circled round with the gigantic heap Of mountains, never felt, nor ever hope To feel, the genial vigor of the sun!
Your friends avoid you, brutishly transform'd They hardly know you, or if one remains To wish you well, he wishes you in heaven.
For wisest ends this universal Power Gave appetites, from whose quick impulse life Subsists, by which we only live, all life Insipid else, unactive, unenjoy'd. Hence to this peopled earth, which, that extinct, That flame for propagation, soon would roll A lifeless mass, and vainly cumber heaven.
Tis not too late to-morrow to be brave.
We need to be free if we are to love.
Much had he read, Much more had he seen; he studied from the life, And in th' original perus'd mankind.
Money can purchase the symbols but not the causes of serenity and buoyancy. In a straightforward way we must agree that money cannot buy happiness.
Impious! forbear thus the first general hail. To disappoint, Increase and multiply, To shed thy blossoms thro' the desert air, And sow thy perish'd offspring in the winds.
We know great Nature's pow'r, Mother of things, whose vast unbounded sway From the deep centre all around extends Wide to the flaming barriers of the world. We feel her power; we strive not to repress (Vainly repress'd, or to deformity) Her lawful growth: ours be the task alone To check her rude excrescencies, to prune Her wanton overgrowth, and where she strays In uncouth shapes, to lead her gently back, With prudent hand, to form and better use.
Ye generous maids, revenge your sex's wrong; Let not the mean destroyer e'er approach Your sacred charms. Now muster all your pride, Contempt and scorn, that, shot from Beauty's eye, Confounds the mighty impudent, and smites The front unknown to shame.
If from thy secret bed Of luxury unbidden offspring rise, Let them be kindly welcom'd to the day.
The blood, the fountain whence the spirits flow The generous stream that waters every part, And motion, vigor, and warm life conveys To every particle that moves or lives.
Hope is the first thing to take some sort of action.
Sometimes pantheists will use the term "pandeism" to underscore that they share with the deists the idea that God is not a personal God who desires to be worshipped.
For pale and trembling anger rushes in With faltering speech, and eyes that wildly stare, Fierce as the tiger, madder than the seas, Desperate and armed with more than human strength.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd; Or dealt by chance to shield a lucky knave, Or throw a cruel sunshine on a fool. But for one end, one much-neglected use, Are riches worth your care; (for nature's wants Are few, and without opulence supplied;) This noble end is, to produce the soul; To show the virtues in their fairest light; To make humanity the minister Of bounteous Providence; and teach the breast The generous luxury the gods enjoy.
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