There is first the literature of knowledge, and secondly, the
literature of power. The function of the first is--to teach; the
function of the second is--to move, the first is a rudder, the
second an oar or a sail. The first speaks to the mere discursive
understanding; the second speaks ultimately, it may happen, to
the higher understanding or reason, but always through affections
of pleasure and sympathy.
- Thomas De Quincey ("The Opium Eater"),
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The chief glory of every people arises from its authors.
The chief glory of every people arises from its authors.
A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.
A sequel is an admission that you've been reduced to imitating yourself.
People create stories create people; or rather stories create people create stories.
People create stories create people; or rather stories create people create stories.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Every man's memory is his private literature.
Till last by Philip's farm I flowTo join the brimming river,For men may come and men may go,But I go read more
Till last by Philip's farm I flowTo join the brimming river,For men may come and men may go,But I go on for ever. - The Brook.
There is no real teacher who in practice does not believe in the existence of the soul, or in a read more
There is no real teacher who in practice does not believe in the existence of the soul, or in a magic that acts on it through speech.
Some people talk in their sleep. Lecturers talk while other people sleep.
Some people talk in their sleep. Lecturers talk while other people sleep.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate?Since sorrow never comes too late,And happiness too swiftly flies.Thought would destroy their read more
Yet ah! why should they know their fate?Since sorrow never comes too late,And happiness too swiftly flies.Thought would destroy their paradise.No more; where ignorance is bliss,'Tis folly to be wise. - Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College.
When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf read more
When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon;What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder,Isle of Beauty, fare thee well! - Paradise Lost.
