Religion is rather the attempt to express the complete reality of goodness through every aspect of our being.
F. H. BRADLEYHis mind is so open – so open that ideas simply pass through it.
More F. H. Bradley Quotes
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Metaphysics is the finding of bad reasons for what we believe on instinct.
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The one self- knowledge worth having is to know one’s own mind.
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My external sensations are no less private to my self than are my thoughts or my feelings. In either case my experience falls within my own circle, a circle closed on the outside… the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that soul.
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It is by a wise economy of nature that those who suffer without change, and whom no one can help, become uninteresting. Yet so it may happen that those who need sympathy the most often attract it the least.
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The propriety of some persons seems to consist in having improper thoughts about their neighbors.
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Eclecticism. Every truth is so true that any truth must be false.
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The man whose nature is such that by one path alone his chief desire will reach consummation will try to find it on that path, whatever it may be, and whatever the world thinks of it; and if he does not, he is contemptible.
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We say that a girl with her doll anticipates the mother. It is more true, perhaps, that most mothers are still but children with playthings.
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The secret of happiness is to admire without desiring. And that is not happiness.
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Adam knew Eve his wife and she conceived. It is a pity that this is still the only knowledge of their wives at which some men seem to arrive.
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Reason teaches us that what is good is good for something, and that what is good for nothing is not good at all.
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But when one has ceased to have them, too often one cannot.
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An aphorism is true where it has fixed the impression of a genuine experience.
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It is good to know what a man is, and also what the world takes him for. But you do not understand him until you have learnt how he understands himself.
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Our live experiences, fixed in aphorisms, stiffen into cold epigrams. Our heart’s blood, as we write it, turns to mere dull ink.
F. H. BRADLEY