Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world.
Nathaniel HawthorneRead
A writer of story books! What kind of business in life-what mode of glorifying God, or being serviceable to mankind in his day and generation-may that be? Why, the degenerate fellow might as well have been a fiddler!
Interpretation
Hawthorne critiques those who pursue art for art's sake without a perceived purpose.
In this quote, Nathaniel Hawthorne questions the value of being a writer of storybooks, suggesting that such pursuits may lack significance in glorifying God or serving mankind. He provocatively compares writers to fiddlers, implying that their contributions to society might be as frivolous and self-indulgent, posing a challenge to the purpose and responsibility that accompanies the creative arts.
In practice
In a discussion about the role of creativity in society, this quote can highlight the importance of purpose in artistic endeavors.
Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world.
A bodily disease which we look upon as whole and entire within itself, may after all, be but a symptom of some ailment in the spiritual part.
All merely graceful attributes are usually the most evanescent.
There is so much wretchedness in the world, that we may safely take the word of any mortal professing to need our assistance; and, even should we be deceived, still the good to ourselves resulting from a kind act is worth more than the trifle by which we purchase it.
Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart! Else it may be their miserable fortune, when some mightier touch than their own may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be reproached even for the calm content, the marble image of happiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the warm reality.
The thing you set your mind on is the thing you ultimately become.
Man is made to create, from the poet to the potter.
Playing a violin is, after all, only scraping a cat's entrails with horsehair.
I never paid attention to what was contemporary or what was commercial, it didn't mean anything to me.
He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music.
You become a different writer when you approach a short story. When things are not always having to represent other things, you find real human beings begin to cautiously appear on your pages.
Interpretation is the revenge of the intellectual upon art.
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