Diplomats Of The United Kingdom

"What call ye them or Goods or Ills, ill-goods, good-ills, a loss, a gain, When realms arise and falls a roof; a world is won, a man is slain?"

"Man worships self: his God is Man; the struggling of the mortal mind To form its model as 'twould be, the perfect of itself to find."

"Your childish fears would seek a Sire, by the non-human God defined, What your five wits may wot ye weet; what is you please to dub "designíd;" You bring down Heavíen to vulgar Earth; your maker like yourselves you make, You quake to own a reign of Law, you pray the Law its laws to break; You pray, but hath your thought e'er weighed how empty vain the prayer must be, That begs a boon already giv'en, or craves a change of law to see?"

"Grant an Idea, Primal Cause, the Causing Cause, why crave for more? Why strive its depth and breadth to mete, to trace its work, its aid to íimplore? Unknown, Incomprehensible, whateíer you choose to call it, call; But leave it vague as airy space, dark in its darkness mystical."

"How shall the Shown pretend to ken aught of the Showman or the Show? Why meanly bargain to believe, which only means thou ne'er canst know? How may the passing Now contain the standing Now — Eternity? — An endless is without a was, the be and never the to-be?"

"There is no God, no man-made God; a bigger, stronger, crueller man; Black phantom of our baby-fears, ere Thought, the life of Life, began."

"Cease, Man, to mourn, to weep, to wail; enjoy thy shining hour of sun; We dance along Death's icy brink, but is the dance less full of fun?"

"How Thought is imp'otent to divine the secret which the gods defend, The Why of birth and life and death, that Isis-veil no hand may rend. Eternal Morrows make our day; our is is aye to be till when Night closes in; 'tis all a dream, and yet we die, — and then and then? And still the Weaver plies his loom, whose warp and woof is wretched Man Weaving th' unpattern'd dark design, so dark we doubt it owns a plan."

"Hardly we find the path of love, to sink the self, forget the "I," When sad suspicion grips the heart, when Man, the Man begins to die:"

"Friends of my youth, a last adieu! haply some day we meet again; Yet ne'er the self-same men shall meet; the years shall make us other men."

"The Translator has ventured to entitle a "Lay of the Higher Law" the following composition, which aims at being in advance of its time; and he has not feared the danger of collision with such unpleasant forms as the "Higher Culture." The principles which justify the name are as follows: —The Author asserts that Happiness and Misery are equally divided and distributed in the world.He makes Self-cultivation, with due regard to others, the sole and sufficient object of human life.He suggests that the affections, the sympathies, and the "divine gift of Pity" are man's highest enjoyments.He advocates suspension of judgment, with a proper suspicion of "Facts, the idlest of superstitions."Finally, although destructive to appearance, he is essentially reconstructive.For other details concerning the Poem and the Poet, the curious reader is referred to the end of the volume."

"Starting in a hollowed log of wood — some thousand miles up a river, with an infinitesimal prospect of returning! I ask myself 'Why?' and the only echo is 'damned fool!... the Devil drives'."

"Conquer thyself, till thou hast done this, thou art but a slave; for it is almost as well to be subjected to another's appetite as to thine own."

"I have struggled for forty-seven years, distinguishing myself honourably in every way that I possibly could. I never had a compliment, nor a "thank you," nor a single farthing. I translate a doubtful book in my old age, and I immediately make sixteen thousand guineas. Now that I know the tastes of England, we need never be without money."

"The England of our day would fain bring up both sexes and keep all ages in profound ignorance of sexual and intersexual relations; and the consequences of that imbecility are particularly cruel and afflicting. … Shall we ever understand that ignorance is not innocence?"

"The more I study religions the more I am convinced that man never worshipped anything but himself."

"The dearest ambition of a slave is not liberty but to have a slave of his own."

"Ah! where shall weary man take sanctuary, where live his little span of life secure? and 'scape of Heav'n serene th' indignant storms that launch their thunders at us earthen worms?"

"They walked the water's vasty breadth of blue, parting the restless billows on their way."

"The recruit must be carefully and sedulously taught when meeting the enemy, even at a trot or canter, to use no force whatever, otherwise his sword will bury itself to the hilt, and the swordsman will either be dragged from his horse, or will be compelled to drop his weapon — if he can. Upon this point I may quote my own System of Bayonet Exercise (p. 27): — "The instructor must spare no pains in preventing the soldier from using force, especially with the left or guiding arm, as too much exertion generally causes the thrust to miss. A trifling body-stab with the bayonet (I may add with the sword) is sufficient to disable a man; and many a promising young soldier has lost his life by burying his weapon so deep in the enemy's breast that it could not be withdrawn quickly enough to be used against a second assailant. To prevent this happening, the point must be delivered smartly, with but little exertion of force, more like a dart than a thrust, and instantly afterwards the bayonet must be smartly withdrawn." In fact the thrust should consist of two movements executed as nearly simultaneously as possible; and it requires long habit, as the natural man, especially the Englishman, is apt to push home, and to dwell upon his slouching push."

"Support a compatriot against a native, however the former may blunder or plunder."

"Of the gladest moments in human life, methinks is the departure upon a distant journey to unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of Routine, the cloak of many Cares and the Slavery of Home, man feels once more happy. The blood flows with the fast circulation of childhood....afresh dawns the morn of life..."

"How melancholy a thing is success. Whilst failure inspirits a man, attainment reads the sad prosy lesson that all our glories "Are shadows, not substantial things." Truly said the sayer, "disappointment is the salt of life" a salutary bitter which strengthens the mind for fresh exertion, and gives a double value to the prize."

"Presently our fire being exhausted, and the enemy pressing on with spear and javelin, the position became untenable; the tent was nearly battered down by clubs, and had we been entangled in its folds, we should have been killed without the power of resistance. I gave the word for a rush, and sallied out with my sabre, closely followed by Lieut. Herne, with Lieut. Speke in the rear. The former was allowed to pass through the enemy with no severer injury than a few hard blows with a war club. The latter was thrown down by a stone hurled at his chest and taken prisoner, a circumstance which we did not learn till afterwards. On leaving the tent I thought that I perceived the figure of the late Lieut. Stroyan lying upon the ground close to the camels. I was surrounded at the time by about a dozen of the enemy, whose clubs rattled upon me without mercy, and the strokes of my sabre were rendered uncertain by the energetic pushes of an attendant who thus hoped to save me. The blade was raised to cut him down: he cried out in dismay, and at that moment a Somali stepped forward, threw his spear so as to pierce my face, and retired before he could be punished. I then fell back for assistance, and the enemy feared pursuing us into the darkness. Many of our Somalis and servants were lurking about 100 yards from the fray, but nothing would persuade them to advance. The loss of blood causing me to feel faint, I was obliged to lie down, and, as dawn approached, the craft from Aynterad was seen apparently making sail out of the harbour."

"Travellers like poets are mostly an angry race."

"Is not man born with a love of change — an Englishman to be discontented — an Anglo-Indian to grumble?"

"Now the last hookah has gone out, and the most restless of our servants has turned in. The roof of the cabin is strewed with bodies anything but fragrant, indeed, we cannot help pitying the melancholy fate of poor Morpheus, who is traditionally supposed to encircle such sleepers with his soft arms. Could you believe it possible that through such a night as this they choose to sleep under those wadded cotton coverlets, and dread not instantaneous asphixiation?"

"Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates are secretaries of Nature."

"Such is the strength of art, rough things to shape, And of rude commons rich enclosures make."

"Words are the life of knowledge; they set free, And bring forth truth by way of midwif'ry: The activ'st creatures of the teeming brain, The judges who the inward man arraign: Reason's chief engine and artillery To batter error, and make falsehood fly; The cannons of the mind, who sometimes bounce Nothing but war, then peace again pronounce."

"'Tis only man can words create, And cut the air to sounds articulate By nature's special charter. Nay, speech can Make a shrewd discrepance 'twist man and man: It doth the gentleman from clown discover; And from a fool the grave philosopher; As Solon said to one in judgment weak, I thought thee wise until I heard thee speak."

"Words are the soul's embassadors, who go Abroad upon her errands to and fro; They are the sole expounders of the mind, And correspondence keep 'twist all mankind. They are those airy keys that ope (and wrest Sometimes) the locks and hinges of the breast. By them the heart makes sallies: wit and sense Belong to them: they are the quintescence Of those ideas which the thoughts distil, And so calcine and melt again, until They drop forth into accents; in whom lies The salt of fancy, and all faculties."

"The Netherlands have been for many years, as one may say, the very cockpit of Christendom."

"He will bless God, and love England ever after"

"Appetite is better than surfeit."

"The wealth of a churchman God gives it, and the Devil takes it away."

"Sometimes an ill favored bitch gnaws a good chord."

"He falls in the pit he digs for others."

"There's fence against all things except death."

"To whom thy secret thou dost tell, to him thy freedom thou dost sell."

"Affection is blind reason."

"Neither go to a wedding nor a christening unbid."

"God consents but not always."

"Happy is he that grows wise by other men's harms."

"The Devil turns his back to a door that is shut."

"Words and works eat not at one table."

"Owe money at Easter and Lent will seem short to thee."

":Cf. The Shining (1980 film)"

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"To have gold brings fear; to have none brings grief."