88 ordspråk av Herman Melville
Herman Melville
To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee
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To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee
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Toil is man's allotment; toil of brain, or toil of hands, or a grief that's more than either, the grief and sin of idleness
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We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results.
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We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.
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We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.
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We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.
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We may have civilized bodies and yet barbarous souls. We are blind to the real sights of this world; deaf to its voice; and dead to its death. And not till we know, that one grief outweighs ten thousand joys will we become what Christianity is striving to make us.
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Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
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Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enter into the other? So with sanity and insanity.
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Why, ever since Adam, who has got to the meaning of this great allegory / the world? Then we pygmies must be content to have out paper allegories but ill comprehended.
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Yea, foolish mortals, Noah's flood is not yet subsided; two thirds of the fair world it yet covers.
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Yet habit--strange thing! what cannot habit accomplish?
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