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Preach the blessings of our deeply incorporated civilization by the mouths of our eight-inch guns.

William Dean Howells

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William Dean Howells
Age: 83 †
Born: 1837
Born: March 1
Died: 1920
Died: May 11
Author
Biographer
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Playwright
Science Fiction Writer
Belmont County
Ohio
William Howells
Deeply
Mouths
Incorporated
Eight
Inch
Blessing
Preach
Civilization
Inches
Guns
Blessings
Gun

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If we like a man's dream, we call him a reformer if we don't like his dream, we call him a crank.
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See how today's achievement is only tomorrow's confusionSee how possession always cheapens the thing that was precious.
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We are creatures of the moment we live from one little space to another, and only one interest at a time fills these.
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The difficulty is to know conscience from self-interest.
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The wars come and go in blood and tears but whether they are bad wars, or what are comically called good wars, they are of one effect in death and sorrow.
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In Europe life is histrionic and dramatized, and in America, except when it is trying to be European, it is direct and sincere.
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The conqueror is regarded with awe the wise man commands our respect but it is only the benevolent man that wins our affection.
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Is it worth while to observe that there are no Venetian blinds in Venice?
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By beauty of course I mean truth, for the one involves the other it is only the false in art which is ugly, and it is only the ugly that is universal.
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n artistic atmosphere does not create artists a literary atmosphere does not create literators poets and painters spring up where there was never a verse made or a picture seen. This suggests that God is no more idle now than He was at the beginning, but that He is still and forever shaping the human chaos into the instruments and means of beauty.
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The wrecks of slavery are fast growing a fungus crop of sentiment.
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Lord, for the erring thoughtNot into evil wrought:Lord, for the wicked willBetrayed and baffled still:For the heart from itself kept,Our thanksgiving accept.
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The mortality of all inanimate things is terrible to me, but that of books most of all.
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Inequality is as dear to the American heart as liberty itself.
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It is the still, small voice that the soul heeds, not the deafening blasts of doom.
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The book which you read from a sense of duty, or because for any reason you must, does not commonly make friends with you.
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Primitive societies without religion have never been found.
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Out of the fragrant heart of bloom, The bobolinks are singing Out of the fragrant heart of bloom The apple-tree whispers to the room, Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?
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The disposition to give a cup of cold water to a disciple is a far nobler property than the finest intellect. Satan has a fine intellect, but not the image of God.
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