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Oh Sleep! it is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole, to Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, that slid into my soul.
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
Praise
Pole
Sleep
Insomnia
Heaven
Queen
Given
Mary
Soul
Queens
Thing
Sent
Beloved
Gentle
Slid
More quotes by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
No mind is thoroughly well organized that is deficient in a sense of humor.
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In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
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Genius of the highest kind implies an unusual intensity of the modifying power.
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Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.
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Within today, tomorrow is already walking.
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He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.
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Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.
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O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway.
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My eyes make pictures when they are shut.
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Until you understand a writer's ignorance, presume yourself ignorant of his understanding.
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I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children, and what an inhuman world without the aged.
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...in consequence of the film of familiarity and selfish solicitude, we have eyes yet see not, ears that hear not, and hearts that neither feel nor understand.
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Health is a great blessing--competence obtained by honorable industry is a great blessing--and a great blessing it is to have kind, faithful, and loving friends and relatives but, that the greatest of all blessings, as it is the most ennobling of all privileges, is to be indeed a Christian.
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Facts are not truths they are not conclusions they are not even premises, but in the nature and parts of premises.
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It is a gentle and affectionate thought, that in immeasurable height above us, at our first birth, the wreath of love was woven with sparkling stars for flowers.
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The curiosity of an honorable mind willingly rests there, where the love of truth does not urge it farther onward, and the love of its neighbor bids it stop in other words, it willingly stops at the point where the interests of truth do not beckon it onward, and charity cries, Halt!
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Summer has set in with its usual severity.
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Law grows, and though the principles of law remain unchanged, yet (and it is one of the advantages of the common law) their application is to be changed with the changing circumstances of the times. Some persons may call this retrogression, I call it progression of human opinion.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Alas! they had been friends in youth but whispering tongues can poison truth.
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I may not hope from outward forms to win / The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
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