Words – so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNEReligion and art spring from the same root and are close kin. Economics and art are strangers.
More Nathaniel Hawthorne Quotes
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Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Nobody will use other people’s experience, nor have any of his own till it is too late to use it.
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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.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
All brave men love; for he only is brave who has affections to fight for, whether in the daily battle of life, or in physical contests.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Just as there comes a warm sunbeam into every cottage window, so comes a lovebeam of God’s care and pity for every separate need.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Religion and art spring from the same root and are close kin. Economics and art are strangers.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
And there I sat, long long ago, waiting for the world to know me.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
Nobody, I think, ought to read poetry, or look at pictures or statues, who cannot find a great deal more in them than the poet or artist has actually expressed. Their highest merit is suggestiveness.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
We sometimes congratulate ourselves at the moment of waking from a troubled dream; it may be so the moment after death.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE -
The thing you set your mind on is the thing you ultimately become.
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I want nothing to do with politicians. Their hearts wither away, and die out of their bodies. Their consciences are turned to india-rubber, or to some substance as black as that, and which will stretch as much.
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The world owes all its onward impulses to men ill at ease. The happy man inevitably confines himself within ancient limits.
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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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Our most intimate friend is not he to whom we show the worst, but the best of our nature.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE