“Every poet... finds himself born in the midst of prose. He has to struggle from the littleness and obstruction of an actual world into the freedom and infinitude of an ideal.” — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
O thou that pinest in the imprisonment of the Actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for a kingdom wherein to rule and create,… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
No sadder proof can be given by a man of his own littleness than disbelief in great men. — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Fame, we may understand, is no sure test of merit, but only a probability of such: it is an accident, not a property, of… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Be a pattern to others, and then all will go well; for as a whole city is affected by the licentious passions and vices… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
The glory of a workman, still more of a master workman, that he does his work well, ought to be his most precious possession;… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
All human things do require to have an ideal in them; to have some soul in them. — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Insurrection, never so necessary, is a most sad necessity; and governors who wait for that to instruct them are surely getting into the fatalest… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Let Time and Chance combine, combine! Let Time and Chance combine! The fairest love from heaven above, That love of yours was mine, My… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
