Are there not thousands in the world who love their fellows even to the death, who feel the giant agony of the world, and more, like slaves to poor humanity, labor for mortal good? |
Away with old Romance! Away with novels, plots and plays of foreign courts; Away with love-verses, sugar'd in rhyme, the intrigues, amours of idlers; Fitted for only banquets of the night where dancers to late music slide; The unhealthy pleasures, ex |
Bards of Passion and of Mirth, / Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too? |
Beauty is truth, and truth is beauty |
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know |
But were there ever any / Writhed not at passed joy? |
But when the melancholy fit shall fall / Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, / That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, / And hides the green hill in an April shroud; / Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose. |
Call the world if you please `The Vale of Soul-making'. |
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale / Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, / Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, / Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone. |
Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: we know her woof, her texture; she is given in the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, conquer all mysteries by rule and line, empty the haunted air, and gnome mine unweave a rainbow. |
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul? |
Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience. Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success, inasmuch as every discovery of what is false leads us to seek earnestly after what is true, and every fresh experience points out some |
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring bowers, know there is richest juice in poison-flowers |
Ever let thy Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home |
Fame like a wayward girl, will still be coy - To those who woo her with too slavish knees |