The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green.
Thomas CarlyleRead
Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of brotherhood makes all men one.
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes the deep, inherent connection that exists among all humanity.
Thomas Carlyle highlights the idea that beneath the surface differences among individuals, there exists a profound and mystic bond that unites all people. This bond of brotherhood transcends social, cultural, and individual distinctions, suggesting that we are all interconnected in a fundamental way.
In practice
In a speech on global unity, one might say this quote to emphasize the importance of collaboration among all nations.
The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green.
Thirty millions, mostly fools.
There is a great discovery still to be made in literature, that of paying literary men by the quantity they do not write.
For the superior morality, of which we hear so much, we too would desire to be thankful: at the same time, it were but blindness to deny that this superior morality is properly rather an inferior criminality, produced not by greater love of Virtue, but by greater perfection of Police; and of that far subtler and stronger Police, called Public Opinion.
Enjoying things which are pleasant; that is not the evil; it is the reducing of our moral self to slavery by them that is.
Clean undeniable right, clear undeniable might: either of these once ascertained puts an end to battle. All battle is a confused experiment to ascertain one and both of these.
...I would like to live a little bit longer in this beautiful concentration camp.
People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked.
All such action would cease if those powerful elemental forces were to cease stirring within us.
Anytime you see somebody keeping a secret, that's symptomatic that something's wrong with the society around them. That means there's discrimination or worse.
It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness--and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark.
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations.
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