Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Samuel Taylor

English Poet, Romantic, Literary Critic and Philosopher, a Founder of the Romantic Movement in England

Author Quotes

The study of the Bible will keep anyone from being vulgar in style.

The mariners all ?gan work the ropes, where they were wont to do: they raised their limbs like lifeless tools - We were a ghastly crew.

The most general definition of beauty ... Multeity in Unity.

The heart's self-solace and soliloquy. You mold my hopes, you fashion me within.

The most happy marriage I can imagine to myself would be the union of a deaf man to a blind woman.

The history of man for the nine months preceding his birth would, probably, be far more interesting and contain events of greater moment than all the three score and ten years that follow it.

The mother says to her daughter: Daughter bid thy daughter, to her daughter, that her daughter's daughter is crying.

The holiest thing alive.

The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd, Like noises in a swound!

The imagination ? that reconciling and mediatory power, which incorporating the reason in images of the sense and organizing (as it were) the flux of the senses by the permanence and self-circling energies of the reason, gives birth to a system of symbols, harmonious in themselves, and consubstantial with the truths of which they are the conductors.

The Jews would not willingly tread upon the smallest piece of paper in their way, but took it up; for possibly, they say, the name of God may be on it. Though there was a little superstition in this, yet truly there is nothing but good religion in it, if we apply it to men. Trample not on any; there may be some work of grace there, that thou knowest not of. The name of God may be written upon that soul thou treadest on.

The juggle of sophistry consists, for the most part, in using a word in one sense in all the premises, and in another sense in the conclusion.

The Knight's bones are dust, And his good sword rust; - His soul is with the saints, I trust.

The Language of the Dream, night is contrary to that of Waking Day. It is a language of Images and Sensations, the various dialects of which are far less different from each other, than the various Day-Languages of Nations.

The last speech, the motive-hunting of a motiveless malignity ? how awful!

The light which experience gives us is a lantern on the stern which shines only on the waves behind us.

The love of a mother is the veil of a softer light between the heart and the heavenly Father.

The man's desire is for the woman; but the woman's desire is rarely other than for the desire of the man.

The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: and a thousand thousand slimy things lived on; and so did I.

St. John had a twofold object in his Gospel and his Epistles,?to prove the divinity, and also the actual human nature and bodily suffering, of Jesus Christ,?that he was God and Man. The notion that the effusion of blood and water from the Saviour's side was intended to prove the real death of the sufferer originated, I believe, with some modern Germans, and seems to me ridiculous: there is, indeed, a very small quantity of water occasionally in the pr‘cordia: but in the pleura, where wounds are not generally mortal, there is a great deal. St. John did not mean, I apprehend, to insinuate that the spear-thrust made the death, merely as such, certain or evident, but that the effusion showed the human nature. "I saw it," he would say, "with my own eyes. It was real blood, composed of lymph and crassamentum, and not a mere celestial ichor, as the Phantasmists allege.

That willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.

The dwarf sees farther than the giant, when he has the giant's shoulders to mount on.

The happiness of life is made up of minute fractions -- the little soon forgotten charities of a kiss or smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment, and the countless infinitesimal of pleasurable and genial feeling.

Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature gives it dim sympathies with me who live, making it a companionable form, whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit by its own moods interprets, everywhere echo or mirror seeking of itself, and makes a toy of Thought.

The act of praying is the very highest energy of which the human mind is capable; praying, that is, with the total concentration of the faculties. The great mass of worldly men and of learned men are absolutely incapable of prayer.

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Samuel Taylor
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English Poet, Romantic, Literary Critic and Philosopher, a Founder of the Romantic Movement in England