It takes a wonderful brain and exquisite senses to produce a few stupid ideas.
The mass of mankind is divided into two classes, the Sancho Panza's who have a sense for reality, but no ideals, and the Don Quixote's with a sense for ideals, but mad.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote delineates two types of people: those grounded in reality without ambition and those driven by ideals but lacking practical sense.
George Santayana's quote suggests a dichotomy in human nature, where individuals can be categorized into two classes: those like Sancho Panza, who represent realism and practicality but lack lofty ideals, and those like Don Quixote, who embody noble aspirations but may be disconnected from reality. This highlights the tension between realism and idealism, urging us to seek a balance between the two to navigate life effectively.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about balancing ambition and practicality, this quote could be used to illustrate the different approaches people take in life.
More from George Santayana
All quotes →The working of great institutions is mainly the result of a vast mass of routine, petty malice, self interest, carelessness and sheer mistake. Only a residual fraction is thought.
There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. The dark background which death supplies brings out the tender colours of life in all their purity.
Not to believe in love is a great sign of dullness. There are some people so indirect and lumbering that they think all real affection rests on circumstantial evidence.
To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be.
The vital straining towards an ideal, definite but latent, when it dominates a whole life, may express that ideal more fully than could the best chosen words.
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There is a great good in returning to a landscape that has had extraordinary meaning in one's life. It happens that we return to such places in our minds irresistibly. There are certain villages and towns, mountains and plains that, having seen them walked in them lived in them even for a day, we keep forever in the mind's eye. They become indispensable to our well-being; they define us, and we say, I am who I am because I have been there, or there.
There are lots of guys out there who write a better prose line than I do and who have a better understanding of what people are really like and what humanity is supposed to mean - hell, I know that.
The path of a good woman is indeed strewn with flowers; but they rise behind her steps, not before them.
Dawn came and matters were worse for it. Because now, emerging from the darkness, I could see, what before I had only felt, the great curtains of rain crashing down on me from towering heights and the waves that threw a path over me and trod me underfoot one after another.
When my master and I were walking in the rain, he would say, 'Do not walk so fast, the rain is everywhere.'
It is the flash which appears, the thunderbolt will follow.