„He first deceased; she for a little tried
To live without him, liked it not, and died.“

—  Henry Wotton, Upon the Death of Sir Albert Morton's Wife (1651).
Henry Wotton photo
Henry Wotton1
1568 - 1639
Publicidade

Citações relacionadas

William Ewart Gladstone photo

„As he lived, so he died — all display, without reality or genuineness.“

—  William Ewart Gladstone British Liberal politician and prime minister of the United Kingdom 1809 - 1898
Of Benjamin Disraeli, in May 1881 to his secretary, Edward Hamilton, regarding Disraeli's instructions to be given a modest funeral. Disraeli was buried in his wife's rural churchyard grave. Gladstone, Prime Minister at the time, had offered a state funeral and a burial in Westminster Abbey. Quoted in chapter 11 of Gladstone: A Biography (1954) by Philip Magnus

Miguel de Cervantes photo

„For if he like a madman lived,
At least he like a wise one died.“

—  Miguel de Cervantes Spanish novelist, poet, and playwright 1547 - 1616
Don Quixote's epitaph

Publicidade
Brad Paisley photo
John Lothrop Motley photo

„As long as he lived, he was the guiding-star of a whole brave nation, and when he died the little children cried in the street.“

—  John Lothrop Motley American historian and diplomat 1814 - 1877
The Rise of the Dutch Republic (1856; New York: Harper, 1861) vol. 3, part 6, ch. 7, p. 627. Of William the Silent. In a footnote Motley cites the original of his last phrase in an official report made by the Greffier Corneille Aertsens: "dont par toute la ville l'on est en si grand duil tellement que les petits enfans en pleurent par les rues."

Brian W. Aldiss photo

„She had tried to love him.“

—  Brian W. Aldiss British science fiction author 1925 - 2017

Publicidade
Ralph Waldo Emerson photo

„Has he therefore outwitted the law? Inasmuch as he carries the malignity and the lie with him, he so far deceases from nature.“

—  Ralph Waldo Emerson American philosopher, essayist, and poet 1803 - 1882
Context: We feel defrauded of the retribution due to evil acts, because the criminal adheres to his vice and contumacy, and does not come to a crisis or judgment anywhere in visible nature. There is no stunning confutation of his nonsense before men and angels. Has he therefore outwitted the law? Inasmuch as he carries the malignity and the lie with him, he so far deceases from nature. In some manner there will be a demonstration of the wrong to the understanding also; but should we not see it, this deadly deduction makes square the eternal account. Neither can it be said, on the other hand, that the gain of rectitude must be bought by any loss. There is no penalty to virtue; no penalty to wisdom; they are proper additions of being. In a virtuous action, I properly am; in a virtuous act, I add to the world; I plant into deserts conquered from Chaos and Nothing, and see the darkness receding on the limits of the horizon. There can be no excess to love; none to knowledge; none to beauty, when these attributes are considered in the purest sense. The soul refuses limits, and always affirms an Optimism, never a Pessimism. His life is a progress, and not a station. His instinct is trust. Our instinct uses "more" and "less" in application to man, of the presence of the soul, and not of its absence; the brave man is greater than the coward; the true, the benevolent, the wise, is more a man, and not less, than the fool and knave. There is no tax on the good of virtue; for that is the incoming of God himself, or absolute existence, without any comparative. Material good has its tax, and if it came without desert or sweat, has no root in me, and the next wind will blow it away. But all the good of nature is the soul's, and may be had, if paid for in nature's lawful coin, that is, by labor which the heart and the head allow. I no longer wish to meet a good I do not earn, for example, to find a pot of buried gold, knowing that it brings with it new burdens. I do not wish more external goods, — neither possessions, nor honors, nor powers, nor persons. The gain is apparent; the tax is certain. But there is no tax on the knowledge that the compensation exists, and that it is not desirable to dig up treasure. Herein I rejoice with a serene eternal peace. I contract the boundaries of possible mischief. I learn the wisdom of St. Bernard, — "Nothing can work me damage except myself; the harm that I sustain I carry about with me, and never am a real sufferer but by my own fault."

Nicholas Sparks photo
Charlotte Salomon photo
Steve Martin photo
Publicidade
Anton Chekhov photo