Nathaniel Hawthorne citáty

page 5

„Šťastie je ako motýľ, ktorý, keď ho prenasledujeme, je vždy mimo nášho dosahu, ale ak si pokojne sadnete, môže na vás sadnúť.“

„Náš najintímnejší priateľ nie je ten, komu ukazujeme to najhoršie, ale naopak to najlepšie z našej povahy.“

„Najväčšou prekážkou hrdinstva sú pochybnosti, či človek nebude vyzerať v očiach ostatných ako hlupák; najozajstnejšie hrdinstvo je odolať pochybnostiam a najhlbšia múdrosť je vedieť, kedy sa im treba vzoprieť a kedy ich treba poslúchnuť.“

“The white-haired father now approached Ethan Brand, and gazed steadily into his face.
"They tell me you have been all over the earth," said he, wringing his hands with earnestness. "You must have seen my daughter, for she makes a grand figure in the world, and everybody goes to see her. Did she send any word to her old father, or say when she was coming back?"
Ethan Brand's eye quailed beneath the old man's. That daughter, from whom he so earnestly desired a word of greeting, was the Esther of our tale, the very girl whom, with such cold and remorseless purpose, Ethan Brand had made the subject of a psychological experiment, and wasted, absorbed, and perhaps annihilated her soul, in the process.”

“"Heaven! What have I done?" exclaimed he. "The vapor, the influence of that brute force,—it has bewildered me and obscured my perception. I have made the very stroke—the fatal stroke—that I have dreaded from the first. It is all over—the toil of months, the object of my life. I am ruined!"
And there he sat, in strange despair, until his lamp flickered in the socket and left the Artist of the Beautiful in darkness.”

“Accuracy is the twin brother of honesty; inaccuracy, of dishonesty.”

“Alas that the artist… may not content himself with the inward enjoyment of the beautiful, but must chase the fitting mystery beyond the verge of his ethereal domain, and crush its frail being in seizing it with a material grasp. Owen Warland felt the impulse to give external reality to his ideas as irresistibly as any of the poets or painters who have arrayed the world in a dimmer and fainter beauty, imperfectly copied from the richness of their visions.”

“Nobody, I think, ought to read poetry, or look at pictures or statues, who cannot find a great deal more in them than the poet or artist has actually expressed.”

“America is now wholly given over to a d—d mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash — and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumerable editions of the Lamplighter, and other books neither better nor worse?”

“Our most intimate friend is not he to whom we show the worst, but the best of our nature.”