Part 57

Life does not count by years. Some suffer a lifetime in a day, and so grow old between the rising and the setting of the sun.--Augusta Evans.

~Light.~--Science and art may invent splendid modes of illuminating the apartments of the opulent; but these are all poor and worthless compared with the light which the sun sends into our windows, which he pours freely, impartially, over hill and valley, which kindles daily the eastern and western sky; and so the common lights of reason and conscience and love are of more worth and dignity than the rare endowments which give celebrity to a few.--Dr. Channing.

More light!--Goethe's last words.

Light! Nature's resplendent robe; without whose vesting beauty all were wrapt in gloom.--Thomson.

Hail! holy light, offspring of heaven, first born!--Milton.

We should render thanks to God for having produced this temporal light, which is the smile of heaven and joy of the world, spreading it like a cloth of gold over the face of the air and earth, and lighting it as a torch, by which we might behold his works.--Caussin.

~Likeness.~--Like, but oh, how different!--Wordsworth.

~Lips.~--Lips like rosebuds peeping out of snow.--Bailey.

He kissed me hard, as though he'd pluck up kisses by the roots that grew upon my lips.--Shakespeare.

The lips of a fool swallow up himself.--Bible.

~Literature.~--Literature happens to be the only occupation in which wages are not given in proportion to the goodness of the work done.--Froude.

The literature of a people must spring from the sense of its nationality; and nationality is impossible without self-respect, and self-respect is impossible without liberty.--Mrs. Stowe.

Cleverness is a sort of genius for instrumentality. It is the brain of the hand. In literature, cleverness is more frequently accompanied by wit, genius, and sense, than by humor.--Coleridge.

When literature is the sole business of life, it becomes a drudgery. When we are able to resort to it only at certain hours, it is a charming relaxation. In my earlier days I was a banker's clerk, obliged to be at the desk everyday from ten till five o'clock; and I shall never forget the delight with which, on returning home, I used to read and write during the evening.--Rogers.

Literary history is the great morgue where all seek the dead ones whom they love, or to whom they are related.--Heinrich Heine.

Whatever the skill of any country be in sciences, it is from excellence in polite learning alone that it must expect a character from posterity.--Goldsmith.

~Logic.~--Logic differeth from rhetoric as the fist from the palm; the one close, the other at large.--Bacon.

Syllogism is of necessary use, even to the lovers of truth, to show them the fallacies that are often concealed in florid, witty, or involved discourses.--Locke.

Logic is the art of convincing us of some truth.--Bruyère.

~Love.~--Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, and presently, all humbled, will kiss the rod!--Shakespeare.

Love is the cross and passion of the heart; its end, its errand.--P. L. Bailey.

Love is frightened at the intervals of insensibility and callousness that encroach by little and little on the dominion of grief, and it makes efforts to recall the keenness of the first anguish.--George Eliot.

Love while 't is day; night cometh soon, wherein no man or maiden may.--Joaquin Miller.

Love has a way of cheating itself consciously, like a child who plays at solitary hide-and-seek; it is pleased with assurances that it all the while disbelieves.--George Eliot.

As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.--Shakespeare.

Loves change sure as man or moon, and wane like warm full days of June.--Joaquin Miller.

Take of love as a sober man takes wine; do not get drunk.--Alfred de Musset.

Love is the admiration and cherishing of the amiable qualities of the beloved person, upon the condition of yourself being the object of their action. The qualities of the sexes correspond. The man's courage is loved by the woman, whose fortitude again is coveted by the man. His vigorous intellect is answered by her infallible tact. Can it be true, what is so constantly affirmed, that there is no sex in souls? I doubt it--I doubt it exceedingly.--Coleridge.