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Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Wednesday, May 02, 2018

Post #2568 - Johnson's definition of sorrow.

Sorrow is properly that state of the mind in which our desires are fixed upon the past without looking forward to the future.
—Samuel Johnson

Friday, September 08, 2017

Post #2400

All sorrows are bearable if there is bread.
—Don Quixote

Thursday, April 02, 2015

Post #1784

The deeper the sorrow, the less tongue hath it.
—The Talmud

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Post #1597

From the very summit of his sorrows, where he had gone to die, Moses, for the first time in his life, caught a view of the land of Canaan. He did not know, as he went over the rocks, torn and weary, how lovely the prospect was from the top. In this world, it frequently happens that when man has reached the place of anguish, God rolls away the mist from his eyes, and the very spot selected as the receptacle of his tears, becomes the place of his highest rapture.
—J.T. Headley

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Wednesday, March 05, 2014

Post #1493

Every man has his secret sorrows, which the world knows not; and oftentimes we call a man cold when he is only sad.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Post #1406

Sorrow is the mere rust of the soul. Activity will cleanse and brighten it.
—Samuel Johnson

Monday, April 16, 2012

Post #923

Sorrow is knowledge: they who know the most
Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth, 
The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.
—Lord Byron

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The Penalty of Leadership

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone – if he achieve a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a -wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountebank, long after the big world had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy – but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions – envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains – the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live — lives.
written by Theodore F. MacManus

A deadly viper once bit a hole snipe's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the snipe, that died.

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