Oh! grief is fantastic; it weaves a web on which to trace the history of its woe from every form and change around; it incorporates itself with all living nature; it finds sustenance in every object; as light, it fills all things, and, like light, it gives its own colors to all.
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"The whole series of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force of reality."
"I have no power to give you happiness, but I could make you an object and a cause of misery."
"I could not understand why men who knew all about good and evil could hate and kill each other."
"This, I thought, is power! Not to be strong of limb, hard of heart, ferocious, and daring; but kind, compassionate and soft."
"A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind, and never to allow passion or transitory desire to disturb his tranquillity. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge…"
The Last Man, a poetic and profound description of the pervasive nature of grief.
Date: 1826
PhilosophicalFound in 1 providers: gemini
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