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The fancy is indeed no other than a mode of memory emancipated from the order of time and space.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Age: 61 †
Born: 1772
Born: October 21
Died: 1834
Died: July 25
Critic
Literary Critic
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Ottery St Mary
Devon
S. T. Coleridge
Order
Time
Emancipated
Mode
Fancy
Indeed
Memory
Memories
Space
More quotes by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink.
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A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive.
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Genius of the highest kind implies an unusual intensity of the modifying power.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The love of indolence is universal, or next to it.
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Iago's soliloquy - the motive-hunting of a motiveless malignity - how awful it is!
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For she belike hath drunken deep Of all the blessedness of sleep.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A man's as old as he's feeling. A woman as old as she looks.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The first man of science was he who looked into a thing, not to learn whether it furnished him with food, or shelter, or weapons, or tools, armaments, or playwiths but who sought to know it for the gratification of knowing.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Joy is the sweet voice, joy the luminous cloud. We in ourselves rejoice! And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, all melodies the echoes of that voice, all colours a suffusion from that light.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And though thou notest from thy safe recess old friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air love them for what they are nor love them less, because to thee they are not what they were.
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To know, to esteem, to love,-and then to part, Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart.
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We ne'er can be Made happy by compulsion.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - On me alone it blew.
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How strange and awful is the synthesis of life and death in the gusty winds and falling leaves of an autumnal day!
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Persecution is a very easy form of virtue.
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What is one man's gain is another's loss.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The book of Job is pure Arab poetry of the highest and most antique cast.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And in today already walks tomorrow.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Boys and girls, And women, that would groan to see a child Pull off an insect's leg, all read of war, The best amusement for our morning meal.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
