dots-menu
×

Home  »  Familiar Quotations  »  Page 582

John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Page 582

 
 
Thomas Carlyle. (1795–1881) (continued)
 
5976
      There is no heroic poem in the world but is at bottom a biography, the life of a man; also it may be said, there is no life of a man, faithfully recorded, but is a heroic poem of its sort, rhymed or unrhymed.
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5977
      Silence is deep as Eternity, speech is shallow as Time.
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5978
      To the very last, he [Napoleon] had a kind of idea; that, namely, of la carrière ouverte aux talents,—the tools to him that can handle them. 1 
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5979
      Blessed is the healthy nature; it is the coherent, sweetly co-operative, not incoherent, self-distracting, self-destructive one!
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5980
      The uttered part of a man’s life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5981
      Literature is the Thought of thinking Souls.
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5982
      It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man’s life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
          Sir Walter Scott. London and Westminster Review, 1838.
5983
      The eye of the intellect “sees in all objects what it brought with it the means of seeing.”
          Varnhagen von Ense’s Memoirs. Ibid.
5984
      Love is ever the beginning of Knowledge as fire is of light.
          Essays. Death of Goethe.
5985
      Music is well said to be the speech of angels.
          Essays. The Opera.
5986
      A mystic bond of brotherhood makes all men one.
          Essays. Goethe’s Works.
 
Note 1.
Carlyle in his essay on Mirabeau, 1837, quotes this from a “New England book.” [back]