Blessed be his name, who hath appointed the quiet night to follow the busy day, and the calm sleep to refresh the wearied limbs and to compose the troubled spirit.
There is a vulgar incredulity, which in historical matters, as well as in those of religion, finds it easier to doubt than to examine.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote suggests that people often choose to doubt rather than seek understanding, particularly in history and religion.
Walter Scott's quote reflects on the tendency of individuals to adopt a dismissive or cynical view towards complex topics like history and religion. Instead of engaging in thoughtful inquiry and examining the evidence, some prefer to remain skeptical, which can hinder a deeper understanding and appreciation of these subjects. This attitude suggests a broader commentary on human nature and the challenges of critical thinking.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a debate about historical interpretations, this quote could emphasize the importance of questioning instead of dismissing viewpoints.
More from Walter Scott
All quotes βIs death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.
O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Where shall the lover rest,_x000D_ _x000D_ Whom the fates sever_x000D_ _x000D_ From his true maiden's breast,_x000D_ _x000D_ Parted for ever?_x000D_ _x000D_ Where, through groves deep and high,_x000D_ _x000D_ Sounds the far billow,_x000D_ _x000D_ Where early violets die,_x000D_ _x000D_ Under the willow.
On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage, Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth: Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare.
Similar quotes
There is no inherent awakening power in cultural forms that have become dissociated from the wisdom and practicality that gave birth to them. They turn into illusions themselves and become part of the drama of religious culture. Although they can make us happy temporarily, they can't free us from suffering, so at some point, they become a source of disappointment and discouragement. Eventually, these forms may inspire nothing more than resistance to their authority.
I don't write about good and evil with this enormous dichotomy. I write about people. I write about people doing the kinds of things that people do.
Commerce has set the mark of selfishness, the signet of its all-enslaving power, upon a shining ore, and called it gold: before whose image bow the vulgar great, the vainly rich, the miserable proud, the mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings, and with blind feelings reverence the power that grinds them to the dust of misery.
But as the scissors snip-snapped through her hair and the razor shaved the rest, she realized with a sudden awful panic that she could no longer recall anything from the past. I cannot remember, she whispered to herself. I cannot remember. She's been shorn of memory as brutally as she'd been shorn of her hair, without permission, without reason... Gone, all gone, she thought again wildly, no longer even sure what was gone, what she was mourning.
The challenge today is to convince people of the value of truth, honesty, compassion and a concern for others.
Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason.