A man lives by believing something: not by debating and arguing about many things.
Doubt, of whatever kind, can be ended by action alone.
A great man shows his greatness by the way he treats little men.
No man lives without jostling and being jostled; in all ways he has to elbow himself through the world, giving and receiving offence.
A well-written life is almost as rare as a well-spent one.
To me the Universe was all void of Life, of Purpose, of Volition, even of Hostility; it was one huge, dead, immeasurable Steam-engine, rolling on, in its dead indifference, to grind me limb from limb. Oh vast gloomy, solitary Golgotha, and Mill of Death! Why was the living banished thither companionless, conscious? Why, if there is no Devil; nay, unless the Devil is your God?
What we become depends on what we read after all of the professors have finished with us. The greatest university of all is a collection of books.
Genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains.
All work, even cotton-spinning, is noble; work is alone noble.
Books are a triviality. Life alone is great.
The true past departs not, no truth or goodness realized by man ever dies, or can die; but all is still here, and, recognized or not, lives and works through endless change.
There is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.
Let Time and Chance combine, combine! Let Time and Chance combine! The fairest love from heaven above, That love of yours was mine, My Dear! That love of yours was mine.
The glory of a workman, still more of a master workman, that he does his work well, ought to be his most precious possession; like the honor of a soldier, dearer to him than life.
He who would write heroic poems should make his whole life a heroic poem.
In private life I never knew anyone interfere with other people's disputes but he heartily repented of it.
Our works are the mirror wherein the spirit first sees its natural lineaments. Hence, too, the folly of that impossible precept, Know theyself; till it be translated into this partially possible one, know what thou canst work at.
The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but rather what they miss.
Love is ever the beginning of knowledge as fire is of light.
Have a purpose in life, and having it, throw into your work such strength of mind and muscle as God has given you.
Biography is the only true history.
Poverty, we may say, surrounds a man with ready-made barriers, which if they do mournfully gall and hamper, do at least prescribe for him, and force on him, a sort of course and goal; a safe and beaten, though a circuitous, course. A great part of his guidance is secure against fatal error, is withdrawn from his control. The rich, again, has his whole life to guide, without goal or barrier, save of his own choosing, and, tempted, is too likely to guide it ill.
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