Man always worships something; always he sees the Infinite shadowed forth in something finite; and indeed can and must so see it… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Man's Unhappiness, as I construe, comes of his Greatness; it is because there is an Infinite in him, with which all his… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
The infinite, absolute character of Virtue has passed into a finite, conditional one; it is no longer a worship of the Beautiful… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Man's unhappiness, as I construe, comes of his greatness; it is because there is an Infinite in him, which with all his… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
Man's Unhappiness... comes of his Greatness; it is because there is an Infinite in him, with which all his cunning he cannot… — Thomas Carlyle Copy Share Image
In a symbol there is concealment and yet revelation: here therefore, by silence and by speech acting together, comes a double significance.… — 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
