Quotes
Quotes about End
Those who talk most about the blessings of marriage and the constancy of its vows are the very people who declare that if the chain were broken and the prisoners were left free to choose, the whole social fabric would fly asunder. You can't have the argument both ways. If the prisoner is happy, why lock him in? If he is not, why pretend that he is?
Men marry to make an end; women to make a beginning.
A great poet has seldom sung of lawfully wedded happiness, but of free and secret love; and in this respect, too the time is coming when there will no longer be one standard of morality for poetry and another for life. To anyone tender of conscience, the ties formed by a free connection are stronger than the legal ones.
This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Martyrdom does not end something, it only a beginning.
Mathematics seems to endow one with something like a new sense.
One of the endlessly alluring aspects of mathematics is that its thorniest paradoxes have a way of blooming into beautiful theories.
How can it be that mathematics, being after all a product of human thought independent of experience, is so admirably adapted to the objects of reality?
With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.
Cursed be the man, the poorest wretch in life, The crouching vassal, to the tyrant wife, Who has no will but by her high permission; Who has not sixpence but in her possession; Who must to her his dear friend's secret tell; Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell. Were such the wife had fallen to my part, I'd break her spirit or I'd break her heart.
Maturity is the capacity to endure uncertainty.
Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.
This is the way that physicians mend or end us, Secundum artem: but although we sneer In health--when ill, we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer.
God who sends the wound sends the medicine. [Sp., Dios que da la llaga, da la medicina.]
Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise for cure on exercise depend; God never made his work for man to mend.
Banished the doctor, and expell'd the friend.
Who worse than a physician Would this report become? But I consider By med'cine life may be prolonged, yet death Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
The medicine increases the disease. [Lat., Aegrescitque medendo.]
The general tendency of things throughout the world is to render mediocrity the ascendant power among mankind.
Happy the heart that keeps its twilight hour, And, in the depths of heavenly peace reclined, Loves to commune with thoughts of tender power,-- A shining Jacob's-ladder of the mind!
He doth entreat your grace, my noble lord, To visit him to-morrow or next day: He is within, with two right reverend fathers, Divinely bent to meditation, And in no worldly suits would he be moved To draw him from his holy exercise.
Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation... Tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. His anxiety subsides. His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.
As drifting logs of wood may haply meet On ocean's waters surging to and fro, And having met, drift once again apart, So, fleeting is the intercourse of men. E'en as a traveler meeting with the shade Of some o'erhung tree, awhile reposes, Then leaves its shelter to pursue his ways, So men meet friends, then part with them for ever.
As two floating planks meet and part on the sea, O friend! so I met and then drifted from thee.
Man could not live if he were entirely impervious to sadness. Many sorrows can be endured only by being embraced, and the pleasure taken in them naturally has a somewhat melancholy character. So, melancholy is morbid only when it occupies too much place in life; but it is equally morbid for it to be wholly excluded from life.
