All Quotes

"A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday."

"Gulliver's Travels is to early modern philosophy what Aristophanes’ The Clouds was to early ancient philosophy. … Swift objects to Enlightenment because it encourages a hypertrophic development of mathematics, physics and astronomy, thus returning to the pre-Socratic philosophy that Aristophanes had criticized for being unselfconscious or unable to understand man. But, unlike pre-Socratic philosophy, which had no interest in politics at all, this science wished to rule and could rule. The new science had indeed generated sufficient power to rule, but in order to do so had had to lose the human perspective. In other words, Swift denied that modern science had actually established a human or political science. All to the contrary, it had destroyed it."

"I re-read Jonathan Swift's A Tale of the Tub twice a year, but that's to punish myself. It is, I think, the most powerful, nonfictive prose in the English language, but it's a kind of vehement satire upon visionary projectors as it were, like myself, and so I figure it is a good tonic and corrective for me."

"[M]y eye fell upon a little book, in a bookseller's window, on the outside of which was written: "A TALE OF A TUB; PRICE 3d." The title was so odd, that my curiosity was excited. I had the 3d. but, then, I could have no supper. In I went, and got the little book, which I was so impatient to read, that I got over into a field, at the upper corner of Kew gardens, where there stood, a hay-stack. On the shady side of this, I sat down to read. The book was so different from any thing that I had ever read before: it was something so new to my mind, that, though I could not at all understand some of it, it delighted me beyond description; and it produced what I have always considered a sort of birth of intellect."

"Swift has a higher reputation than he deserves. His excellence is strong sense; for his humour, though very well, is not remarkably good. I doubt whether The Tale of a Tub be his; for he never owned it, and it is much above his worldly manner."

"The rogue never hazards a figure."

"Every star, and every pow'r, Look down on this important hour: Lend your protection and defence Every guard of innocence! Help me my Henry to assuage, To gain his love or bear his rage. Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, Hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Chill'd with tears, Kill'd with fears, Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!"

"Better to die ten thousand deaths, Than wound my honour."

"If the following day he chance to find A new repast, or an untasted spring, Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury."

"Swift’s claim to his rest from ‘savage indignation’ was also, characteristically, a literary allusion. In his First Satire, Juvenal splenetically explains why he finds himself writing satire at all. He stands in the streets of Rome, he says, and watches the monsters of vice that pass by. His gorge rises and he just has to write about it: ‘si natura negat, facit indignatio versum.’ ‘Though nature forbids, indignation makes the verse.’ Satire is forced into being by the pressure of the times. The satirist’s anger – for which, in later ages, Juvenal became a representative – makes silence impossible. It is strange to find ‘sæva indignatio’ on Swift’s memorial tablet, a tablet that notably does not contain any mention of the usual Christian consolations – any hope of salvation or another life beyond this one. It is strange because Swift had distanced the satirical writings from his own feelings: they were written in the voices of personae whose attitudes and beliefs had been chosen precisely because they were not, apparently, his own, and published anonymously or pseudonymously. Gulliver is the most famous, but there are many others: sometimes evidently foolish, sometimes worryingly lucid; self-righteous or ‘humble’; piously outraged or alarmingly dispassionate. None of them speaks for Swift. Readers have often imagined the author’s fury or disgust or horror, but without actually hearing his voice. And yet, at the end, he seemed to declare that the satire came from his own wounded heart."

"If I had to make a list of six books which were to be preserved when all others were destroyed, I would certainly put Gulliver's Travels among them."

"Giant and great as this Dean is, I say we should hoot him. Some of this audience mayn't have read the last part of Gulliver, and to such I would recall the advice of the venerable Mr. Punch to persons about to marry, and say, 'Don't'. When Gulliver first lands among the Yahoos, the naked howling wretches clamber up trees and assault him, and he describes himself as 'almost stifled with the filth which fell about him.' The reader of the fourth part of Gulliver's Travels is like the hero himself in this instance. It is Yahoo language: a monster gibbering shrieks, and gnashing imprecations against mankind — tearing down all shreds of modesty, past all sense of manliness and shame; filthy in word, filthy in thought, furious, raging, obscene."

"As fierce a beak and talon as ever struck — as strong a wing as ever beat, belong to Swift. [...] One can gaze, and not without awe and pity, at the lonely eagle chained behind the bars [...] An immense genius: an awful downfall and ruin. So great a man he seems to me, that thinking of him is like thinking of an empire falling."

"Swift was a good writer, but had a bad heart. Even to the last he was devoured by ambition, which he pretended to despise. Would you believe that, after finding his opposition to the ministry fruitless, and, what galled him still more, contemned, he summoned up resolution to wait on Sir Robert Walpole? Sir Robert, seeing Swift look pale and ill, inquired the state of his health, with his usual old English good humour and urbanity. They were standing by a window that looked into the court-yard, where was an ancient ivy dropping towards the ground. "Sir," said Swift, with an emphatic look, "I am like that ivy; I want support." Sir Robert answered, "Why then, doctor, did you attach yourself to a falling wall?" Swift took the hint, made his bow, and retired."

"Today this Temple gets a Dean,"

"Music, the greatest good that mortals know, And all of heaven we have below."

"Music religious heat inspires, It wakes the soul, and lifts it high, And wings it with sublime desires, And fits it to bespeak the Deity."

"When time itself shall be no more, And all things in confusion hurl'd, Music shall then exert it's power, And sound survive the ruins of the world: Then saints and angels shall agree In one eternal jubilee: All Heaven shall echo with their hymns divine, And God himself with pleasure see The whole creation in a chorus join."

"Consecrate the place and day To music and Cecilia. Let no rough winds approach, nor dare Invade the hallow'd bounds, Nor rudely shake the tuneful air, Nor spoil the fleeting sounds. Nor mournful sigh nor groan be heard, But gladness dwell on every tongue; Whilst all, with voice and strings prepar'd, Keep up the loud harmonious song, And imitate the blest above, In joy, and harmony, and love."

"On you, my lord, with anxious fear I wait, And from your judgment must expect my fate."

"Let echo, too, perform her part, Prolonging every note with art; And in a low expiring strain, Play all the concert o'er again."

"A thousand trills and quivering sounds In airy circles o'er us fly, Till, wafted by a gentle breeze, They faint and languish by degrees, And at a distance die."

"For wheresoe'er I turn my ravished eyes, Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground."

"Fain would I Raphael's godlike art rehearse, And show th' immortal labours in my verse, Where from themingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heavenly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with life his blended colours glow. From theme to theme with secret pleasure tost, Amidst the soft variety I 'm lost: Here pleasing airs my ravish'd soul confound With circling notes and labyrinths of sound; Here domes and temples rise in distant views, And opening palaces invite my Muse."

"When hosts of foes with foes engage, And round th' anointed hero rage, The cleaving fauchion I misguide, And turn the feather'd shaft aside."

"Where have my ravish'd senses been! What joys, what wonders, have I seen! The scene yet stands before my eye, A thousand glorious deeds that lie In deep futurity obscure, Fights and triumphs immature, Heroes immers'd in time's dark womb, Ripening for mighty years to come, Break forth, and, to the day display'd, My soft inglorious hours upbraid. Transported with so bright a scheme, My waking life appears a dream."

"The French are certainly the most implacable, and the most dangerous Enemys of the British Nation. Their Form of Government, their Religion, their Jealousy of the British Power, as well as their Prosecutions of Commerce, and Pursuits of Universal Monarchy, will fix them for ever in their Animosities and Aversions towards us, and make them catch at all Opportunities of subverting our Constitution, destroying our Religion, ruining our Trade, and sinking the Figure which we make among the Nations of Europe... As we are thus in a natural State of War, if I may so call it, with the French Nation; it is our Misfortune, that they are not only the most inveterate, but most formidable of our Enemies; and have the greatest Power, as well as the strongest Inclination to ruin us."

"The French King hath often enter'd on several expensive Projects, on purpose to dissipate the Wealth that is continually gathering in his Coffers in times of peace... But if he once engrosses the commerce of the Spanish Indies, whatever Quantities of Gold and Silver stagnate in his private Coffers, there will be still enough to carry on the Circulation among his Subjects. By this means in a short space of time he may heap up greater Wealth than all the Princes of Europe join'd together; and in the present Constitution of the World, Wealth and Power are but different Names for the same thing. Let us therefore suppose that after eight or ten Years of Peace, he hath a mind to infringe any of his Treaties, or invade a neighbouring State; to revive the pretensions of Spain upon Portugal, or attempt the taking those Places which were granted us for our Security; what Resistance, what Opposition can we make to so formidable an Enemy? Shou'd the same Alliance rise against him that is now in War with him, what cou'd we hope for from it, at a time when the States engag'd in it will be comparatively weaken'd, and the Enemy who is now able to keep them at a stand, will have receiv'd so many new Accessions of Strength."

"The man resolved, and steady to his trust, Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just, May the rude rabble's insolence despise, Their senseless clamours and tumultuous cries; The tyrant's fierceness he beguiles, And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defies, And with superior greatness smiles."

"Should the whole frame of Nature round him break, In ruin and confusion hurled, He, unconcerned, would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure amidst a falling world."

"When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together."

"When I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow: when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind."

"See in what peace a Christian can die!"

"Great souls by instinct to each other turn, Demand alliance, and in friendship burn; A sudden friendship, while with stretched-out rays They meet each other, mingling blaze with blaze. Polished in courts, and hardened in the field, Renowned for conquest, and in council skilled, Their courage dwells not in a troubled flood Of mounting spirits, and fermenting blood: Lodged in the soul, with virtue overruled, Inflamed by reason, and by reason cooled, In hours of peace content to be unknown. And only in the field of battle shown: To souls like these, in mutual friendship joined, Heaven dares intrust the cause of humankind."

"Nations with nations mix'd confus'dly die, And lost in one promiscuous carnage lie."

"Unbounded courage and compassion join'd, Tempering each other in the victor's mind, Alternately proclaim him good and great, And make the hero and the man complete."

"So when an angel by divine command With rising tempests shakes a guilty land, Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed, Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm."

"O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate, And not the wonders of thy youth relate; How can I see the gay, the brave, the young, Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung! In joys of conquest he resigns his breath, And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death."

"Rais'd of themselves, their genuine charms they boast, And those who paint them truest praise them most."

"Is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?"

"The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, And heavily in clouds brings on the day, The great, the important day, Big with the fate Of Cato, and of Rome."

"Thy steady temper, Portius, Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar, In the calm lights of mild philosophy."

"Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost In high ambition, and a thirst of greatness; 'Tis second life, it grows into the soul, Warms every vein, and beats in every pulse."

"'Tis not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve it."

"Thy father's merit sets thee up to view, And shows thee in the fairest point of light, To make thy virtues, or thy faults, conspicuous."

"Oh! think what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods, Oh! 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Filled up with horror all, and big with death!"

"'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul: I think the Romans call it Stoicism."

"Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget The pale, unripened beauties of the north."

"Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense."

"My voice is still for war. Gods! Can a Roman senate long debate Which of the two to choose, slavery or death? No, let us rise at once, Gird on our swords, and, At the head of our remaining troops, attack the foe, Break through the thick array of his throng'd legions, And charge home upon him. Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest, May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage."