Lacon: Or Many Things in Few Words Addressed to Those who Think, Volumen2


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Página 233 - They err who count it glorious to subdue By conquest far and wide, to overrun Large countries, and in field great battles win, Great cities by assault: what do these worthies But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave Peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote.
Página 96 - ... will find that they need not go to her, for she will come unto them. None bid so high for her as kings ; few are more willing, none more able, to purchase her alliance at the fullest price. But she has no more respect for kings than for their subjects ; she mocks them, indeed, with the empty show of a visit, by sending to their palaces all her equipage, her pomp, and her train, but she comes not herself. What detains her? She is travelling incognita to keep a private assignation with contentment,...
Página 57 - For first, is there any principle in all nature more mysterious than the union of soul with body; by which a supposed spiritual substance acquires such an influence over a material one, that the most refined thought is able to actuate the grossest matter?
Página 129 - Slave of the mine ! thy yellow light Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear. — A gentle vision comes by night My lonely widow'd heart to cheer : Her eyes are dim with many a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine ; Her fond heart throbs with many a fear! I cannot bear to see thee shine.
Página 216 - If you want enemies, excel others ; if you want friends, let others excel you.
Página 202 - Many books require no thought from those who read them, and for a very simple reason ; — they made no such demand upon those who wrote them. Those works therefore are the most valuable, that set our thinking faculties in the fullest operation.
Página 106 - ... those who have finished by making all others think with them, have usually been those who began by daring to think with themselves ; as he that leads a crowd, must begin by separating himself some little distance from it.
Página 128 - Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave ; The daring thoughts that soar'd sublime Are sunk in Ocean's southern wave. Slave of the mine...
Página 129 - Her eyes are dim with many a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine: Her fond heart throbs with many a fear — I cannot bear to see thee shine. For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave, I left a heart that lov'd me true!
Página 230 - Push'd by a wild and artless race From off its wide ambitious base, When Time his northern sons of spoil awoke, And all the blended work of strength and grace, With many a rude repeated stroke, And many a barbarous yell, to thousand fragments broke.

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