English Writer and Poet
Martin Tupper, fully Martin Farquhar Tupper
English Writer and Poet
Wealth hath never given happiness, but often hastened misery; enough hath never cause misery, but often quickened happiness.
Trifles lighter than straws are levers in the building up of character.
Travel is a ceaseless fount of surface education, but its wisdom will be simply superficial, if thou add not thoughts to things.
The streams of small pleasures fill the lake of happiness.
O Death, what art thou? a stern and silent usher, leading to the judgment for Eternity, after the trial scene of Time.
Knowledge holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to conquest; Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword.
Few and precious are the words which the lips of Wisdom utter. To what shall their rarity be likened? What price shall count their worth? Perfect and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches, no lovely thing on earth can picture all their beauty.
Be understood in thy teaching and instruct to the measure of capacity. Precepts and rules are repulsive to a child, but happy illustration wins him.
All things being are in mystery; we expound mysteries by mysteries.
A spark is a molecule of matter, yet may it kindle the world; vast is the mighty ocean, but drops have made it vast. Despise not thou small things, either for evil or for good; for a look may work thy ruin, or a word create thy wealth.
Keep justice, keep generosity, yielding to neither singly.
A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men.
If thou art master to thyself, circumstances shall harm thee little.
Error is a hardy plant; it flourisheth in every coil; In the heart of the wise and good, alike with the wicked and foolish; For there is no error so crooked, but it hath in it some lines of truth.
Ridicule is a weak weapon when pointed at a strong mind; but common people are cowards and dread an empty laugh.
Anger is a noble infirmity; the generous failing of the just; the one degree that riseth above zeal, asserting the prerogative of virtue.
Memory is not wisdom; idiots can by rote repeat volumes. Yet what is wisdom without memory?
Confidence is conqueror of men; victorious both over them and in them;
The iron will of one stout heart shall make a thousand quail;
A feeble dwarf, dauntlessly resolved, will turn the tide of battle,
And rally to a nobler strife the giants that had fled.
Writing is eternal,
For therein the dead heart liveth, the clay-cold tongue is eloquent,
And the quick eye of the reader is cleared by the reed of the scribe.
As a fossil in the rock, or a coin in the mortar of a ruin,
So the symbolled thoughts tell of a departed soul:
The plastic hand hath its witness in a statue, and exactitude of vision in a picture,
And so, the mind, that was among us, in its writings is embalmed.
To the timid heart, to the child of unbelief and dread,
That leaneth on his own weak staff, and trusteth the sight of his eyes,
The evil he feared shall come, for the soil is ready for the seed.
Wealth hath never given happiness, but often hastened misery.