Thomas Carlyle

My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.

My whinstone house my castle is,
I have my own four walls.

To us also, through every star, through every blade of grass, is not God made visible if we will open read more

To us also, through every star, through every blade of grass, is not God made visible if we will open our minds and our eyes.

What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes,
Thy one brief parting pang may show:
And withering thoughts read more

What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes,
Thy one brief parting pang may show:
And withering thoughts for soul that dashes,
From deep to deep, are but a death more slow.

I've got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.

I've got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.

Everywhere the human soul stands between a hemisphere of light and another of darkness; on the confines of the two read more

Everywhere the human soul stands between a hemisphere of light and another of darkness; on the confines of the two everlasting empires, necessity and free will.