Journals of Ralph Waldo Emerson: With Annotations, Volume 4

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Houghton Mifflin, 1910
 

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Page 254 - He that would bring home the wealth of the Indies, must carry out the wealth of the Indies.
Page 276 - ... in frank intercourse with many men and women ; in science ; in art; to the one end of mastering in all their facts a language by which to illustrate and embody our perceptions. I learn immediately from any speaker how much he has already lived, through the poverty or the splendor of his speech. Life lies behind us as the quarry from whence we get tiles and copestones for the masonry of to-day.
Page 198 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Page 396 - No strength of man or fiercest wild beast could withstand ; Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid; Ran on embattled armies clad in iron, And, weaponless himself, Made arms ridiculous...
Page 232 - He had no one word intimating that he had laughed or wept, was married or in love, had been commended, or cheated, or chagrined. If he had ever lived and acted, we were none the wiser for it. The capital secret of his profession, namely, to convert life into truth, he had not learned.
Page 132 - There is then creative reading as well as creative writing. When the mind is braced by labor and invention, the page of whatever book we read becomes luminous with manifold allusion. Every sentence is doubly significant, and the sense of our author is as broad as the world.
Page 367 - He that is down needs fear no fall; He that is low no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.
Page 304 - Richard, Richard, dost thou think we'll hear thee poison the court? Richard, thou art an old fellow, an old knave; thou hast written books enough to load a cart, every one as full of sedition, I might say treason, as an egg is full of meat. Hadst thou been whipped out of thy writing trade forty years ago, it had been happy.
Page 488 - Day creeps after day, each full of facts, dull, strange, despised things, that we cannot enough despise, — call heavy, prosaic, and desert. The time we seek to kill: the attention it is elegant to divert from things around us. And presently the aroused intellect finds gold and gems in one of these scorned facts, — then finds that the day of facts is a rock of diamonds; that a fact is an Epiphany of God.
Page 490 - As others do, so will I : I renounce, I am sorry for it, my early visions ; I must eat the good of the land and let learning and romantic expectations go, until a more convenient season...

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