This strange disease of modern life, with its sick hurry, its divided aims. – Matthew Arnold
Tis not to see the world
As from a height, with rapt prophetic eyes,
And heart profoundly stirred;
And weep, and feel the fullness of the past,
The years that are not more. – Matthew Arnold
People think that I can teach them style. What stuff it all is. Have something to say and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret of style. – Matthew Arnold
With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day, and wish twere done.
Not till the hours of light return
All we have built as we discern. – Matthew Arnold
What way should Victor take in the labyrinth of beauty?— All the sixty-four radii of the compass stretched themselves out as so many fingerposts, and he had sense enough not to propose to himself any particular hour of arriving. – Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, Hesperus, or Forty-Five Dog-Post-Days: A Biography,