Thomas Campbell Quotes
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.
Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, and robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Although no words can really help to ease the loss you bear, Just know that you are very close in every thought and prayer. To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
Your belief systems limit your reality to a sub-set of the solution space that does not contain the answer.
A man who will not leave his room because he does not know how, or is afraid to open the door, is trapped just the same whether or not the door is locked.
An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write; but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.
How delicious is the winning Of a kiss at Love's beginning, When two mutual hearts are sighing For the knot there's no untying!
Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
The popularity of that baby-faced boy, who possessed not even the elements of a good actor, was a hallucination in the public mind, and a disgrace to our theatrical history.
Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain waves, Her home is on the deep.
What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.
The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself; all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.
O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name.
Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.
Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!
Without the smile from partial beauty won, O what were man? - a world without a sun.
For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.
Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.
The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.
On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.
Where the Scriptures speak, we speak; where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent.
Truth ever lovely - since the world began, The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man.
