Ralph Waldo Emerson Quotes
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Nature abhors the old, and old age seems the only disease; all others run into this one.
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Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.
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What is there in 'Paradise Lost' to elevate and astonish like Herschel or Somerville?
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There are two classes of poets - the poets by education and practice, these we respect; and poets by nature, these we love.
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All that Shakespeare says of the king, yonder slip of a boy that reads in the corner feels to be true of himself.
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A great man quotes bravely, and will not draw on his invention when his memory serves him with a word just as good.
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I fancy I need more than another to speak (rather than write), with such a formidable tendency to the lapidary style. I build my house of boulders.
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God may forgive sins, he said, but awkwardness has no forgiveness in heaven or earth.
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Each the herald is who wrote His rank, and quartered his own coat. There is no king nor sovereign state That can fix a hero's rate.
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Blessed are those who have no talent!
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All the great speakers were bad speakers at first.
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Time dissipates to shining ether the solid angularity of facts.
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The alleged power to charm down insanity, or ferocity in beasts, is a power behind the eye.
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Nor knowest thou what argument Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent: All are needed by each one, Nothing is fair or good alone.
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There is no great and no small To the Soul that maketh all; And where it cometh, all things are; And it cometh everywhere.
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Good is a good doctor, but Bad is sometimes a better.
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The man who renounces himself, comes to himself.
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The music that can deepest reach, And cure all ill, is cordial speech.
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There is always a best way of doing everything, if it be to boil an egg. Manners are the happy ways of doing things; each once a stroke of genius or of love, - now repeated and hardened into usage. They form at last a rich varnish, with which the routine of life is washed, and its details adorned.
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Go put your creed into your deed, Nor speak with double tongue.
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And striving to be man, the worm Mounts through all the spires of form.
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I owed a magnificent day to the Bhagavad Gita. It was the first of books; it was as if an empire spoke to us, nothing small or unworthy, but large, serene, consistent, the voice of an old intelligence which in another age and climate had pondered and thus disposed of the same questions which exercise us.
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A good symbol is the best argument, and is a missionary to persuade thousands.
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In how many churches, by how many prophets, tell me, is man made sensible that he is an infinite Soul; that the earth and heavens are passing into his mind; that he is drinking forever the soul of God?