All the live murmur of a summer’s day.
MATTHEW ARNOLDIt is – last stage of all When we are frozen up within, and quite The phantom of ourselves To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost Which blamed the living man
More Matthew Arnold Quotes
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Say, has some wet bird-haunted English lawn Lent it the music of its trees at dawn?
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Culture, then, is a study of perfection, and perfection which insists on becoming something rather than in having something, in an inward condition of the mind and spirit, not in an outward set of circumstances.
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How many minds–almost all the great ones–were formed in secrecy and solitude!
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If there ever comes a time when the women of the world come together purely and simply for the benefit of mankind, it will be a force such as the world has never known.
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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 do we discern.
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The difference between genuine poetry and the poetry of Dryden, Pope, and all their school, is briefly this: their poetry is conceived and composed in their wits, genuine poetry is conceived and composed in the soul.
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Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.
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It is a very great thing to be able to think as you like; but, after all, an important question remains: what you think.
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Men of culture are the true apostles of equality
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To have the sense of creative activity is the great happiness and the great proof of being alive.
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Our inequality materializes our upper class, vulgarizes our middle class, brutalizes our lower class.
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However, if I shall live to be eighty I shall probably be the only person left in England who reads anything but newspapers and scientific publications.
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Nor bring, to see me cease to live, Some doctor full of phrase and fame, To shake his sapient head, and give The ill he cannot cure a name.
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I keep saying, Shakespeare, Shakespeare, you are as obscure as life is.
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It is – last stage of all When we are frozen up within, and quite The phantom of ourselves To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost Which blamed the living man
MATTHEW ARNOLD