Quotes About Wisdom

Many a man lives a burden to the Earth, but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

We boast our light; but if we look not wisely on the run itself, it smites us into darkness. Who can discern those planets that are oft combust, and those starts of brightest magnitude that rise and set with the sun, until the opposite motion of their orbs bring them to such a place in the firmament where they may be seen evening or morning? The light which we have gained was given us, not to be ever staring on, but by it to discover onward things more remote from our knowledge.

Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth; but a good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfet raigns.

Not to know at large of things remote From use, obscure and subtle, but to know That which before us lies in daily life, Is the prime wisdom.

Firm they might have stood, yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress.

He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.

Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.

He who receives Light from above, from the Fountain of Light, No other doctrine needs, though granted true; But these are false, or little else but dreams, Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm.

All is best, though we oft doubt, what the unsearchable dispose, of highest wisdom brings about.

The goal of all learning is to repair the ruin of our first parents.

few sometimes may know, when thousands err

Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools, The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more apt To slacken virtue and abate her edge Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st Live well, how long or short permit to Heaven.

The end of all learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love and imitate Him.

Frei ist, wer der Vernunft gehorcht.

When he who rules is worthiest, and excells   Them whom he governs. This is servitude,   To serve th' unwise, or him who hath rebelld   Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee,   Thy self not free, but to thy self enthrall'd;

One fatal tree there stands of knowledge call'd Forbidden them to taste. Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, reasonless. Why should their Lord Envy them that? Can it be sin to know? Can it be death? And do they only stand By ignorance? Is that their happy state, The proof of their obedience and their faith?

Thus with the Year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledg fair Presented with a Universal blanc Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd, And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.

He who kills a person kills a reasonable creature, but he who kills a good book destroys reason itself

but to create Is greater than created to destroy.

For kunnskap er som mat, og måtehold må til så man kun inntar slikt et mål som sinnet lett kan romme, overflod er byrdefullt, og vender visdom snart til dårskap, slik som næring blir til vind.

Beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.

However, many books, Wise men have said, are wearisome; who reads Incessantly, and to his reading brings not A spirit and judgment equal or superior, (And what he brings what needs he elsewhere seek?) Uncertain and unsettled still remains, Deep-versed in books and shallow in himself, Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge, As children gathering pebbles on the shore.