Quotes
Quotes about Rest
A human being is a part of the whole, called by us Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest--a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole nature in its beauty.
To confine our attention to terrestrial matters would be to limit the human spirit.
Interestingly, according to modern astronomers, space is finite. This is a very comforting thought - particularly for people who cannot remember where they left things.
A university is what a college becomes when the faculty loses interest in students.
I know [patriotism] exists, and I know it has done much in the present contest. But a great and lasting war can never be supported on this principle alone. It must be aided by a prospect of interest, or some reward.
To act from pure benevolence is not possible for finite beings. Human benevolence is mingled with vanity, interest, or some other motive.
Know that it is good to work. Work with love, and think of liking it when you do it. It is easy and interesting. It is a privilege. There is nothing hard about it but your anxious vanity and fear of failure.
The first time you see Winston Churchill you see all his faults and the rest of your life you spend discovering his virtues.
Virtue is more to be feared than vice, because its excesses are not subject to the restraints of conscience.
O great corrector of enormous times, Shaker of o'er-rank states, thou grand decider Of dusty and old titles, that healest with blood The earth when it is sick, and curest the world O' the pleurisy of people.
And always we had wars, and more wars, and still other wars â all over Europe, all over the world. 'Sometimes in the private interest of royal families,' Satan said, 'sometimes to crush a weak nation; but never a war started by the aggressor for any clean purpose â there is no such war in the history of the race.
If war should sweep our commerce from the seas, another generation will restore it. If war exhausts our treasury, future industry will replenish it. If war desiccate and lay waste our fields, under new cultivation they will grow green again and ripen to future harvest. If the walls of yonder Capitol should fall and its decorations be covered by the dust of battle, all these can be rebuilt. But who shall reconstruct the fabric of a demolished government; who shall dwell in the well-proportioned columns of constitutional liberty; who shall frame together the skillful architecture which unites sovereignty with state's rights, individual security with prosperity?
War will exist until that distant day when the conscientious objector enjoys the same reputation and prestige that the warrior does today.
Where deep and misty shadows float In forest's depths is heard thy note. Like a lost spirit, earthbound still, Art thou, mysterious whip-poor-will.
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretches out the heavens like a curtain: Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind: Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire: Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever.
By three methods we may learn wisdom: first, by reflection which is noblest; second, by imitation, which is the easiest; and third, by experience, which is the bitterest.
You know I met you, Kist you, and prest you close within my arms, With all the tenderness of wifely love.
'Tis a word that's quickly spoken, Which being unrestrained, a heart is broken.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
With hand on the spade and heart in the sky Dress the ground and till it; Turn in the little seed, brown and dry, Turn out the golden millet. Work, and your house shall be duly fed: Work, and rest shall be won; I hold that a man had better be dead Than alive when his work is done.
Tho' we earn our bread, Tom, By the dirty pen, What we can we will be, Honest Englishmen. Do the work that's nearest Though it's dull at whiles, Helping, when we meet them, Lame dogs over stiles.
The work under our labour grows Luxurious by restraint.
Heaven is blessed with perfect rest but the blessing of earth is toil.
Too long, that some may rest, Tired millions toil unblest.
