Quote

Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

Matthew Arnold

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Matthew Arnold
Age: 65 †
Born: 1822
Born: December 24
Died: 1888
Died: April 15
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
School Inspector
University Teacher
Writer
Laleham
Surrey
Sea
Bears
Sick
Asking
Prow
Ought
Starlit
Stand
Forwards
Vessel
Weary

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Now the great winds shoreward blow Now the salt tides seaward flow Now the wild white horses play Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
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What really dissatisfies in American civilisation is the want of the interesting, a want due chiefly to the want of those two great elements of the interesting, which are elevation and beauty.
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The pursuit of perfection, then, is the pursuit of sweetness and light.... He who works for sweetness and light united, works to make reason and the will of God prevail.
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Mind is a light which the Gods mock us with, To lead those false who trust it.
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Let the long contention cease! / Geese are swans, and swans are geese.
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Hither and thither spins The wind-borne mirroring soul, A thousand glimpses wins, And never sees a whole.
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They... who await. No gifts from Chance, have conquered Fate.
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But there remains the question: what righteousness really is. The method and secret and sweet reasonableness of Jesus.
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Coleridge: poet and philosopher wrecked in a mist of opium.
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Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well.
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ForTime, not Corydon, hath conquered thee.
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And see all sights from pole to pole, And glance, and nod, and hustle by And never once possess our soul Before we die.
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Our inequality materializes our upper class, vulgarizes our middle class, brutalizes our lower class.
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Creep into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said!
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Grey time-worn marbles Hold the pure Muses. In their cool gallery, By yellow Tiber, They still look fair.
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We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides, The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides: But tasks in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd.
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Nations are not truly great solely because the individuals composing them are numerous, free, and active but they are great when these numbers, this freedom, and this activity are employed in the service of an ideal higher than that of an ordinary man taken by himself.
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Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes Ah, would that I did too!
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Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.
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