Quote

Some persons take reproof good-humoredly enough, unless you are so unlucky as to hit a sore place. Then they wince and writhe, and start up and knock you down for your impertinence, or wish you good morning.

Augustus William Hare

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Augustus William Hare
Age: 41 †
Born: 1792
Born: November 17
Died: 1834
Died: January 22
Author
Writer
Augustus Hare
Start
Impertinence
Wish
Wince
Place
Reproof
Persons
Sore
Take
Unlucky
Enough
Knock
Good
Unless
Morning
Writhe

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When a watch goes ill, it is not enough to move the hands you must set the regulator. When a man does ill, it is not enough to alter his handiwork, you must regulate his heart.
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How deeply rooted must unbelief be in our hearts when we are surprised to find our prayers answered.
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Do, and have done. The former is far the easiest.
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One saves oneself much pain, by taking pains much trouble, by taking trouble.
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It is well for us that we are born babies in intellect. Could we understand half what mothers say and do to their infants, we should be filled with a conceit of our own importance, which would render us insupportable through life. Happy the boy whose mother is tired of talking nonsense to him before he is old enough to know the sense of it.
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A youth's love is the more passionate virgin love is the more idolatrous.
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Life is the hyphen between matter and spirit.
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The difference between those whom the world esteems as good and those whom it condemns as bad, is in many cases little else than that the former have been better sheltered from temptation.
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The body too has its rights and it will have them: they cannot be trampled on without peril. The body ought to be the soul's best friend. Many good men however have neglected to make it such: so it has become a fiend and has plagued them.
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What a type of happy family is the family of the Sun! With what order, with what harmony, with what blessed peace, do his children the planets move around him, shining with light which they drink in from their parent's in at once upon him and on one another!
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They who boast of their tolerance merely give others leave to be as careless about religion as they are themselves. A walrus might as well pride itself on its endurance of cold.
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We look to our last sickness for repentance, unmindful that it is during a recovery men repent, not during a sickness.
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Nobody who is afraid of laughing, and heartily too, at his friend, can be said to have a true and thorough love for him.
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The poet sees things as they look. Is this having a faculty the less? or a sense the more?
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Excessive indulgence to others, especially to children is in fact only self-indulgence under an alias.
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I was surprised just now at seeing a cobweb around a knocker for it was not on the door of heaven.
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Most painters have painted themselves. So have most poets: not so palpably indeed, but more assiduously. Some have done nothing else.
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The mind is like a trunk: if well-packed, it holds almost every thing if ill-packed, next to nothing.
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I suspect we have internal senses. The mind's eye since Shakespeare's time has been proverbial and we have also a mind's ear. To say nothing of dreams, one certainly can listen to one's own thoughts, and hear them, or believe that one hears them: the strongest argument adducible in favour of our hearing any thing.
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Books, as Dryden has aptly termed them, are spectacles to read nature. Aeschylus and Aristotle, Shakespeare and Bacon, are priests who preach and expound the mysteries of man and the universe. They teach us to understand and feel what we see, to decipher and syllable the hieroglyphics of the senses.
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