Great Throughts Treasury

This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.

Related Quotes

Ellen Glasgow, fully Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow

The pathos of life is worse than the tragedy.

Day | Life | Life |

Emanuel Swedenborg, born Emanujel Swedberg

Such as the love is, such is the wisdom, consequently such is the man.

Abundance | Body | Conversation | Eternal | Experience | Life | Life | Means | Meditation | Money | Need | People | Reading | Spirit | Time | World | Think | Understand |

Emil M. Cioran

Getting up in the middle of the night, I walked around my room with the certainty of being chosen and criminal, a double privilege natural to the sleepless, revolting or incomprehensible for the captives of daytime logic.

Existence | Forgiveness | Happy | Light | Soul | Will | Forgiveness |

Emil M. Cioran

I have never taken myself for a being. A non-citizen, a marginal type, a nothing who exists only by the excess, by the superabundance of his nothingness.

Awareness | Curiosity | Existence | Impossibility | Awareness |

Dorothy Parker

The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.

Safe | Will | Afraid |

Emil M. Cioran

For the man who has got in the nasty habit of unmasking appearances, event and misunderstanding are synonyms. To make for the essential is to throw up the game, to admit one is defeated.

Earth | Existence | Life | Life | Reason | Time |

Emil M. Cioran

Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.

Pride | Time |

Dorothy Parker

Her big heart did not, as is so sadly often the case, inhabit a big bosom.

Boys | Little | Happiness |

Emanuel Swedenborg, born Emanujel Swedberg

Angels never attack, as infernal spirits do. Angels only ward off and defend.

Good | Life | Life | Wisdom |

Emile Zola

She might have liked to try to strangle him with those slender fingers of hers, but she wanted to make a job of it and this great patience with which she waited for her claws to grow was in itself a form of enjoyment.

Emile Zola

Inability, human incapacity, is the only boundary to an art.

Dirty | Good | Light | Old |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

How do most people live without any thought? There are many people in the world,--you must have noticed them in the street,--how do they live? How do they get strength to put on their clothes in the morning?

Land | Little |

Emile Zola

The truth is on the march and nothing will stop it.

Lying | Serenity |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

I wonder if it hurts to live, and if they have to try, and whether, could they choose between, they would not rather die.

Existence | Life | Life |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

After great pain, a formal feeling comes — the Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs — the stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, and Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round — of Ground, or Air, or Ought — a Wooden way regardless grown, a Quartz contentment, like a stone — This is the Hour of Lead —Remembered, if outlived, as Freezing persons, recollect the Snow —First — Chill — then Stupor — then the letting go —

Fear |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Pain - has an Element of Blank. It cannot recollect when it begun - or if there were a time when it was not - It has no Future - but itself - Its Infinite contain its Past - enlightened to perceive new Periods - of Pain.

Truth |

Emile Zola

A silence fell at the mention of Gavard. They all looked at each other cautiously. As they were all rather short of breath by this time, it was the camembert they could smell. This cheese, with its gamy odour, had overpowered the milder smells of the marolles and the limbourg; its power was remarkable. Every now and then, however, a slight whiff, a flute-like note, came from the parmesan, while the bries came into play with their soft, musty smell, the gentle sound, so to speak, of a damp tambourine. The livarot launched into an overwhelming reprise, and the géromé kept up the symphony with a sustained high note.

Family | Good | Will |

Emile Zola

Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.

Future | Glory | Truth |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

I'll tell you how the sun rose—a ribbon at a time.

News |

Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

How happy is the little stone that rambles in the road alone, and doesn't care about careers, and exigencies never fears; whose coat of elemental brown a passing universe put on; and independent as the sun, associates or glows alone, fulfilling absolute decree in casual simplicity.

Hope | Simplicity | Work | Happiness |