All parts of knowledge have their origin in metaphysics, and finally, perhaps, revolve into it. Thomas de Quincey More Quotes by Thomas de Quincey More Quotes From Thomas de Quincey A promise is binding in the inverse ratio of the numbers to whom it is made. Thomas de Quincey ratiosnumberspromise Either the human being must suffer and struggle as the price of a more searching vision, or his gaze must be shallow and without intellectual revelation. Thomas de Quincey intellectualsufferingstruggle It is an impressive truth that sometimes in the very lowest forms of duty, less than which would rank a man as a villain, there is, nevertheless the sublimest ascent of self-sacrifice. To do less would class you as an object of eternal scorn, to do so much presumes the grandeur of heroism. Thomas de Quincey sacrificeselfmen Even imperfection itself may have its ideal or perfect state. Thomas de Quincey statesperfectmay As is the inventor of murder, and the father of art, Cain must have been a man of first-rate genius. Thomas de Quincey philosophyfatherart The mere understanding, however useful and indispensable, is the meanest faculty in the human mind and the most to be distrusted. Thomas de Quincey facultyunderstandingmind Reserve is the truest expression of respect towards those who are its objects. Thomas de Quincey reservesobjectsexpression Flowers that are so pathetic in their beauty, frail as the clouds, and in their coloring as gorgeous as the heavens, had through thousands of years been the heritage of children - honored as the jewelry of God. Thomas de Quincey flowercloudschildren I stood checked for a moment - awe, not fear, fell upon me - and whist I stood, a solemn wind began to blow, the most mournful that ever ear heard. Mournful! That is saying nothing. It was a wind that had swept the fields of mortality for a hundred centuries. Thomas de Quincey blowearswind Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without. Thomas de Quincey rainteawind Thou hast the keys of Paradise, oh, just, subtle, and mighty opium! Thomas de Quincey paradisedrugkeys The peace of nature and of the innocent creatures of god seems to be secure and deep, only so long as the presence of man and his restless and unquiet spirit are not there to trouble its sanctity. Thomas de Quincey naturemenpeace So, then, Oxford Street, stonyhearted stepmother, thou that listenest to the sighs of orphans, and drinkest the tears of children, at length I was dismissed from thee. Thomas de Quincey tearsoxfordchildren Fierce sectarianism breeds fierce latitudinarianism. Thomas de Quincey sectarianismfierce Out of the ruined lodge and forgotten mansion, bowers that are trodden under foot, and pleasure-houses that are dust, the poet calls up a palingenesis. Thomas de Quincey dustpoetryfeet Often one's dear friend talks something which one scruples to call rigmarole. Thomas de Quincey dearscruplesdear-friend Enough if every age produce two or three critics of this esoteric class, with here and there a reader to understand them. Thomas de Quincey ageclasstwo Flowers... that are so pathetic in their beauty, frail as the clouds, and in their coloring as gorgeous as the heavens, had through thousands of years been the heritage of children - honored as the jewelry of God only by them - when suddenly the voice of Christianity, counter-signing the voice of infancy, raised them to a grandeur transcending the Hebrew throne, although founded by God himself, and pronounced Solomon in all his glory not to be arrayed like one of these. Thomas de Quincey flowercloudschildren I feel that there is no such thing as ultimate forgetting; traces once impressed upon the memory are indestructible. Thomas de Quincey feelsforgetmemories 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. Thomas de Quincey literaturemovingfirsts
