Passages selected from the writings of Thomas Carlyle, with a biogr. memoir by T. Ballantyne

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166. oldal - Brother ! For us was thy back so bent, for us were thy straight limbs and fingers so deformed: thou wert our Conscript, on whom the lot fell, and fighting our battles wert so marred.
195. oldal - The Situation that has not its Duty, its Ideal, was never yet occupied by man. Yes, here, in this poor, miserable, hampered, despicable Actual, wherein thou even now standest, here or nowhere is thy Ideal: work it out therefrom; and working, believe, live, be free.
59. oldal - You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!
164. oldal - I call that, apart from all theories about it, one of the grandest things ever written with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were not Hebrew ; such a noble universality, different from noble patriotism or sectarianism, reigns in it. A noble Book ; all men's Book ! It is our first, oldest statement of the never-ending Problem, — man's destiny, and God's ways with him here in this earth.
81. oldal - The Lord giveth, and the Lord ' taketh away ; blessed be the name of the Lord.
167. oldal - ... whom the lot fell, and fighting our battles wert so marred. For in thee too lay a God-created Form, but it was not to be unfolded; encrusted must it stand with the thick adhesions and defacements of Labour; and thy body, like thy Soul, was not to know freedom.
233. oldal - Keep not standing fixed and rooted, Briskly venture, briskly roam ; Head and hand, where'er thou foot it, And stout heart are still at home, In what land the sun does visit, Brisk are we, whate'er betide : To give space for wandering is it That the world was made so wide.
183. oldal - We call that fire of the black thunder-cloud 'electricity,' and lecture learnedly about it, and grind the like of it out of glass and silk: but what is it? "What made it? Whence comes it? Whither goes it? Science has done much for us ; but it is a poor science that would hide from us...
279. oldal - In Books lies the soul of the whole Past Time ; the articulate audible voice of the Past, when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream.
198. oldal - Older than all preached Gospels was this unpreached, inarticulate, but ineradicable, forever-enduring Gospel : Work, and therein have wellbeing. Man, Son of Earth and of Heaven, lies there not, in the innermost heart of thee, a Spirit of active Method, a Force for Work ; — and burns like a...

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