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Creep into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said!
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
Creep
Creeps
Narrow
Bed
More quotes by Matthew Arnold
Not a having and a resting, but a growing and a becoming, is the character of perfection as culture conceives it.
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Truth sits upon the lips of dying men, And falsehood, while I lived, was far from mine.
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O strong soul, by what shore Tarriest thou now? For that force, Surely, has not been left vain!
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For science, God is simply the stream of tendency by which all things seek to fulfill the law of their being.
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Come, dear children, let us away Down and away below!
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What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for Beauty to forego her wreath? Yes but not this alone.
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On Sundays, at the matin-chime, The Alpine peasants, two and three, Climb up here to pray Burghers and dames, at summer's prime, Ride out to church from Chamberry, Dight with mantles gay, But else it is a lonely time Round the Church of Brou.
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If an historian be an unbeliever in all heroism, if he be a man who brings every thing down to the level of a common mediocrity, depend upon it, the truth is not found in such a writer.
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However, if I shall live to be eighty I shall probably be the only person left in England who reads anything but newspapers and scientific publications.
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Nature's great law, and the law of all men's minds? To its own impulse every creature stirs: Live by thy light, and Earth will live by hers.
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We do not what we ought What we ought not, we do And lean upon the thought That chance will bring us through But our own acts, for good or ill, are mightier powers.
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The brave, impetuous heart yields everywhere to the subtle, contriving head.
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Say, has some wet bird-haunted English lawn Lent it the music of its trees at dawn?
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Not deep the poet sees, but wide.
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Know, man hath all which Nature hath, but more, And in that more lie all his hopes of good.
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They... who await. No gifts from Chance, have conquered Fate.
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Let the long contention cease! / Geese are swans, and swans are geese.
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Is it so small a thing To have enjoyed the sun.
Matthew Arnold
Culture is both an intellectual phenomenon and a moral one
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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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