The calmer thought is not always the right thought, just as the distant view is not always the truest view.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNEThere is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.
More Nathaniel Hawthorne Quotes
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Happiness is like a butterfly.
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The trees reflected in the river – they are unconscious of a spiritual world so near to them. So are we.
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We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.
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And there I sat, long long ago, waiting for the world to know me.
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Ugliness without tact is horrible.
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A man’s bewilderment is the measure of his wisdom.
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Life is made up of marble and mud.
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What other dungeon is so dark as one’s own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one’s self!
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Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart!
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Trusting no man as his friend, he could not recognize his enemy when the latter actually appeared.
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Salt is white and pure – there is something holy in salt.
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A pure hand needs no glove to cover it.
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We sometimes congratulate ourselves at the moment of waking from a troubled dream; it may be so the moment after death.
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Dream strange things and make them look like truth.
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There is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.
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The marble keeps merely a cold and sad memory of a man who would else be forgotten. No man who needs a monument ever ought to have one.
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Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world.
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A singular fact, that, when man is a brute, he is the most sensual and loathsome of all brutes.
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The heart of true womanhood knows where its own sphere is, and never seeks to stray beyond it!
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A bodily disease which we look upon as whole and entire within itself, may after all, be but a symptom of some ailment in the spiritual part.
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My fortune somewhat resembled that of a person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide, and, altogether beyond his hopes, meet with the good hap to be murdered.
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When scattered clouds are resting on the bosoms of hills, it seems as if one might climb into the heavenly region, earth being so intermixed with sky, and gradually transformed into it.
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Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.
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Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.
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Though we speak nonsense, God will pick out the meaning of it.
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I find nothing so singular to life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE