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The odious and disgusting aristocracy of wealth is built upon the ruins of all that is good in chivalry or republicanism; and luxury is the forerunner of a barbarism scarcely capable of cure.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Interpretation

What this quote means

Wealth and luxury often corrupt society and degrade noble values.

In this quote, Percy Bysshe Shelley critiques the detrimental impact of wealth and luxury on society, suggesting that they erode the foundations of good values such as chivalry and republicanism. He warns that such decadence leads to a form of barbarism that is difficult, if not impossible, to reverse, highlighting the moral decay that can result from an excessive focus on materialism and aristocracy.

Themes

WealthLuxuryBarbarismAristocracyDecayValues

In practice

Example use cases

In a discussion on economic inequality, this quote could highlight the moral implications of wealth concentration.

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Senseless is the breast and cold _x000D_ _x000D_ Which relenting love would fold;_x000D_ _x000D_ Bloodless are the veins and chill _x000D_ _x000D_ Which the pulse of pain did fill; _x000D_ _x000D_ Every little living nerve _x000D_ _x000D_ That from bitter words did swerve _x000D_ _x000D_ Round the tortur'd lips and brow, _x000D_ _x000D_ Are like sapless leaflets now _x000D_ _x000D_ Frozen upon December's bough.
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A sensitive plant in a garden grew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And the young winds fed it with silver dew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And it opened its fan_x000D_ _x000D_ like leaves to the light,_x000D_ _x000D_ and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
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I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
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Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
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Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley | QuoteProject