My weary limbs are scarcely stretched for repose, before red dawn peeps into my chamber window, and the birds in the whispering le...aves over the roof, apprise me by their sweetest notes that another day of toil awaits me. I arise, the harness is hastily adjusted and once more I step upon the tread-mill.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
As he grew accustomed to the great gallery of machines, he began to feel the forty-foot dynamos as a moral force, much as the earl...y Christians felt the Cross. The planet itself seemed less impressive, in its old-fashioned, deliberate, annual or daily revolution, than this huge wheel, revolving within arm's-length at some vertiginous speed, and barely murmuring,--scarcely humming an audible warning to stand a hair's-breadth further for respect of power,--while it would not wake the baby lying close against its frame.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
He who seeks to approach his own buried past must conduct himself like a man digging.... He must not be afraid to return again and... again to the same matter; to scatter it as one scatters earth, to turn it over as one turns over soil. For the matter itself is only a deposit, a stratum, which yields only to the most meticulous examination what constitutes the real treasure hidden within the earth: the images, severed from all earlier associations, that stand--like precious fragments or torsos in a collector's gallery--in the prosaic rooms of our later understanding.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
But who, alas! can love, and then be wise? Not that remorse did not oppose temptation;... A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering 'I will ne'er consent'Mconsented.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
It doesn't matter that your painting is small. Kopecks are also small, but when a lot are put together they make a ruble. Each pai...nting displayed in a gallery and each good book that makes it into a library, no matter how small they may be, serves a great cause: accretion of the national wealth.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
That man's best works should be such bungling imitations of Nature's infinite perfection, matters not much; but that he should mak...e himself an imitation, this is the fact which Nature moans over, and deprecates beseechingly. Be spontaneous, be truthful, be free, and thus be individuals! is the song she sings through warbling birds, and whispering pines, and roaring waves, and screeching winds.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Spirit of her I love, Whispering to me,... Stories of sweet visions, as I rove, Here stop, and crop with me Sweet flowers that in the still hour grew,LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »