Reference > Quotations > C.N. Douglas, comp. > Forty Thousand Quotations > Primary Author Index
C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
                    ————amid life’s quests
That seems but worthy one—to do men good.
        Ask not of me, love, what is love?
Ask what is good of God above;
Ask of the great sun what is light;
Ask what is darkness of the night;
Ask sin of what may be forgiven;
Ask what is happiness of heaven;
Ask what is folly of the crowd;
Ask what is fashion of the shroud;
Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss;
Ask of thyself what beauty is.
        Dear Lord, our God and Saviour! for Thy gifts
The world were poor in thanks, though every soul
Were to do nought but breathe them, every blade
Of grass, and every atomie of earth
To utter it like dew.
        Death is the universal salt of states;
Blood is the base of all things—law and war.
            Dew-drops, Nature’s tears, which she
Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.
The sun insists on gladness; but at night,
When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.
                    Dreams are rudiments
Of the great state to come. We dream what is
About to happen.
        England! my country, great and free!
Heart of the world, I leap to thee!
        Evil is limited. One cannot form
A scheme for universal evil.
        Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of which
Men are and ought to be accountable,—
If not to Thee, to those they influence.
        For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.
                Her cheek had the pale pearly pink
Of sea shells, the world’s sweetest tint, as though
She lived, one-half might deem, on robes sopp’d
In pearly dew.
        I am tired of looking on what is,
One might as well see beauty never more,
As look upon it with an empty eye.
I would this world were over. I am tired.
        I love night more than day—she is so lovely;
But I love night the most because she brings
My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie.
        I run the gauntlet of a file of doubts,
Each one of which down hurls me to the ground.
                        It is sad
To see the light of beauty wane away,
Know eyes are dimming, bosoms shrivelling, feet
Losing their springs, and limbs their lily roundness;
But it is worse to feel the heart-spring gone,
To lose hope, care not for the coming thing,
And feel all things go to decay within us.
Are bubble-like—what makes them,
Bursts them too.
        Kindness is wisdom. There is none in life
But needs it and may learn.
                        Leave the poor
Some time for self-improvement. Let them not
Be forced to grind the bones out of their arms
For bread, but have some space to think and feel
Like moral and immortal creatures.
        Let each man think himself an act of God,
His mind a thought, his life a breath of God.
        Life’s but a means unto an end, that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things—God.
        Look on the bee upon the wing ’mong flowers;
How brave, how bright his life! then mark him hiv’d,
Cramp’d, cringing in his self-built, social cell,
Thus it is in the world-hive; most where men
Lie deep in cities as in drifts.
              Naught but God
Can satisfy the soul.
                        Not a single path
Of thought I tread, but that it leads to God.
        Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets; and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power,—undermakers.
        Poets are all who love,—who feel great truths,
And tell them.
        See the gold sunshine patching,
  And streaming and streaking across
The gray-green oaks; and catching,
  By its soft brown beard, the moss.
                        She spake,
And his love-wilder’d and idolatrous soul
Clung to the airy music of her words,
Like a bird on a bough, high swaying in the wind.
        Soul of the world, divine Necessity,
Servant of God, and master of all things.
        Star unto star speaks light, and world to world
Repeats the passage of the universe
To God; the name of Christ—the one great word
Well worth all languages in earth or heaven.
        The goodness of the heart is shown in deeds
Of peacefulness and kindness. Hand and heart
Are one thing with the good, as thou should’st be.
Do my words trouble thee? then treasure them,
Pain overgot gives peace, as death doth Heaven.
All things that speak of Heaven speak of peace.
                        The ground
Of all great thoughts is sadness.
        The poet’s pen is the true divining rod
Which trembles towards the inner founts of feeling;
Bringing to light and use, else hid from all,
The many sweet clear sources which we have
Of good and beauty in our own deep bosoms;
And marks the variations of all mind
As does the needle.
              The sun, centre and sire of light,
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.
        The wind breathes not, and the wave
Walks softly as above a grave.
        The world is a great poem, and the world’s
The words it is writ in, and we souls the thoughts.
        There are whole veins of diamonds in thine eyes,
Might furnish crowns for all the Queens of earth.
                        Thou art a woman,
And that is saying the best and worst of thee.
        Thou wilt not chronicle our sand-like sins;
For sin is small, and mean, and barren. Good
Only is great, and generous, and fruitful.
Number the mountains, not the sands, O God!
                    Thou wind?
Which art the unseen similitude of God
The Spirit, His most meet and mightiest sign.
                            Thy great name
In all its awful brevity, hath nought
Unholy breeding it, but doth bless
Rather the tongue that uses it; for me,
I ask no higher office than to fling
My spirit at Thy feet, and cry Thy name,
God! through eternity.
        Thy talk is the sweet extract of all speech,
And holds mine ear in blissful slavery.
        True faith nor biddeth nor abideth form,
The bended knee, the eye uplift, is all
Which men need render; all which God can bear.
What to the faith are forms? A passing speck,
A crow upon the sky.
Boldly and wisely in that light thou hast—
There is a hand above will help thee on.
        We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
                        What are ye orbs?
The words of God? the Scriptures of the skies?
        When I forget that the stars shine in air—
When I forget that beauty is in stars—
When I forget that love with beauty is—
Will I forget thee: till then all things else.
        When night hath set her silver lamp on high,
Then is the time for study.
        Who never doubted never half believed,
Where doubt there truth is—’tis her shadow.
        Why Mammon sits before a million hearths
Where God is bolted out from every house.
  A curse is like a cloud—it passes.  50
  All are of the race of God, and have in themselves good.  51
  All things that speak of heaven speak of peace.  52
  America,—half-brother of the world!  53
  Application is the price to be paid for mental acquisition. To have the harvest, we must sow the seed.  54
  Blessings star forth forever; but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.  55
  Blest is he whose heart is the home of the great dead and their great thoughts.  56
  Could I love less, I should be happier now.  57
  Death is another life.  58
  Death is the gate of life.  59
  Death, thou art infinite; it is life is little.  60
  Doubt is the shadow of truth.  61
  Earth’s liquid jewelry, wrought of air.  62
  Error is worse than ignorance.  63
  Every believer is God’s miracle.  64
  Evil and good are God’s right hand and left.  65
  Evil then results from imperfection.  66
  Faith is a higher facility than reason.  67
  Fulfil thy fate! Be—do—bear—and thank God.  68
  God’s love seemed lost upon him.  69
  Great thoughts, like great deeds, need no trumpet.  70
  Grief hallows hearts, even while it ages heads.  71
  He hath no power who hath not power to use.  72
  He is a fool who is not for love and beauty. I speak unto the young, for I am of them and always shall be.  73
  He who has most of heart, knows most of sorrow.  74
  Hell is more bearable than nothingness.  75
  Hell is the wrath of God—His hate of sin.  76
  Her step is music, and her voice is song.  77
  How slight a chance may raise or sink a soul!  78
  I cannot be content with less than heaven.  79
  I have a heart with room for every joy.  80
  If all were rich, gold would be penniless.  81
  Imagination is the air of mind.  82
  It Is fine to stand upon some lofty mountain thought, and feel the spirit stretch into a view.  83
  It is no great misfortune to oblige ungrateful people, but an unsupportable one to be forced to be under an obligation to a scoundrel.  84
  Let us think less of men and more of God.  85
  Life hath more awe than death.  86
  Life is as serious a thing as death.  87
  Life is less than nothing without love.  88
  Long, glorious locks, which drop upon thy cheek like gold-hued cloud-flakes on the rosy morn.  89
  Love is the art of hearts, and heart of arts.  90
  Lowliness is the basis of every virtue; and he who goes the lowest builds the safest.  91
  Man is one; and he hath one great heart. It is thus we feel, with a gigantic throb athwart the sea, each other’s rights and wrongs; thus are we men.  92
  Men might be better if we better deemed of them.  93
  Mind and night will meet, though in silence, like forbidden lovers.  94
  My favored temple is an humble heart.  95
  Nature means Necessity.  96
  Necessity, like electricity, is in ourselves and all things, and no more without us than within us.  97
  Never respect men merely for their riches, but rather for their philanthropy; we do not value the sun for its height, but for its use.  98
  Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths.  99
  None but the brave and beautiful can love.  100
  Nothing comes to us too soon but sorrow.  101
  O, there is naught on earth worth being known but God and our own souls!  102
  Obey thy genius, for a minister it is unto the throne of fate. Draw to thy soul, and centralize the rays which are around of the Divinity.  103
  Oh, could we lift the future’s sable shroud.  104
  One thought settles a life, an immortality.  105
  Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth.  106
  Remember that thy heart will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears, and both leave loathsome furrows.  107
  Sorrow is a stone that crushes a single bearer to the ground, while two are able to carry it with ease.  108
  Stars which stand as thick as dew-drops on the field of heaven.  109
  Surely the stars are images of love.  110
  The best enjoyment is half disappointment to what we mean, or would have, in this world.  111
  The deathbed of a day, how beautiful.  112
  The firefly only shines when on the wing; so is it with the mind; when once we rest, we darken.  113
  The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat one’s self. All sin is easy after that.  114
  The fringe of the garment of the Lord.  115
  The ground of all great thoughts is sadness.  116
  The heart is its own fate.  117
  The long days are no happier than the short ones.  118
  The name of Christ—the one great word well worth all languages in earth or heaven.  119
  The strongest passion which I have is honor.  120
  The sun, God’s crest upon His azure shield, the heavens.  121
  The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love.  122
  The temples perish, but the God still lives.  123
  The truth of truths is love.  124
  The value of a thought cannot be told.  125
  The worst men often give the best advice.  126
  They who forgive most shall be most forgiven.  127
  ’Tis man himself makes his own god and his own hell.  128
  ’Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.  129
  We live not to ourselves, our work is life.  130
  We love and live in power; it is the spirit’s end. Mind must subdue; to conquer is its life.  131
  We must not pluck death from the Maker’s hand.  132
  What men call accident is God’s own part.  133
  When pride thaws, look for floods.  134
  Where imperfection ceaseth, heaven begins.  135
  Who can mistake great thoughts? They seize upon the mind; arrest and search and shake it; bow the tall soul as by wind; rush over it like rivers over reeds.  136
  Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.  137
  Worthy books are not companions, they are solitudes; we lose ourselves in them, and all our cares.  138
  Youth might be wise; we suffer less from pains than pleasures.  139

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