Nathaniel Hawthorne citáty

strana 4

„Naším nejbližším přítelem není ten, komu ukážeme to nejhorší, ale to nejlepší z naší povahy.“

„Zamilovat se v životě můžeme jen jednou, ale milovat celý život.“

„Milující žena je květ růže, nemilující jen její stvol, plný trnů.“

„Budoucnost je plna výzev a nadějí.“

„Jemným a krásným skutečnostem rozumíme nejlépe, jsou-li proměněny v éter vzdáleností v čase.“

„Milovat nutno bez milosti: každá jiná láska je slabost.“

„Je ovšem pravda, že když autor vydá svou knihu napospas, nehodlá jí promlouvat k těm mnohým, kteří ji s nechutí odhodí nebo vůbec nevezmou do ruky, ale k těm několika, kdo ho pochopí, třeba líp než většina jeho spolužáků a vrstevníků.“

„Ženská cudnost se skládá, stejně jako cibule, z celé řady vrstev.“

„Železným pravidlem našich dnů je požadovat od života cíl a účel. Z nás všech se činí součástky složitého soukolí pokroku, který nás může přivést jedině do studenějších a bezútěšnějších končin, než v jakých jsme se narodili. Trvá se na tom, aby každý něco přidal - třeba špetičku, ale vydřenou neúnavným úsilím - k nahromaděné kupě užitečnosti, jež bude užitečná jen k tomu, aby naše potomstvo zavalila ještě tíživějšími myšlenkami a nezřízenější lopotou než nás. Žádný život dnes neplyne jako nespoutaná řeka, i nejnepatrnější potůček má své mlýnské kolo. Z příliš usilovného odhodlání jít naprosto správně jdeme naprosto špatně.“

“Poets have imagined no utterance of fiends or hobgoblins so fearfully appropriate as a laugh. And even the obtuse lime-burner felt his nerves shaken, as this strange man looked inward at his own heart, and burst into laughter that rolled away into the night, and was indistinctly reverberated among the hills.”

“It contributes greatly towards a man's moral and intellectual health, to be brought into habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate.”

“Scattered… over the breasts of the surrounding mountains there were heaps of hoary mist, in fantastic shapes… or cloud, hovering in the gold radiance of the upper atmosphere. …[I]t seemed almost as if mortal man might thus ascend into the heavenly regions. Earth was so mingled with sky… The great hills played a concert among themselves, each constituting a strain of airy sweetness.”

“The greatest obstacle to being heroic is the doubt whether one may not be going to prove one's self a fool; the truest heroism is, to resist the doubt; and the profoundest wisdom, to know when it ought to be resisted, and when to be obeyed.”

“God will give him blood to drink!”

“All brave men love; for he only is brave who has affections to fight for, whether in the daily battle of life, or in physical contests.”

“It is perilous to make a chasm in human affections; not that they gape so long and wide—but so quickly close again!”

“If mankind were all intellect, they would be continually changing, so that one age would be entirely unlike another. The great conservative is the heart, which remains the same in all ages; so that commonplaces of a thousand years' standing are as effective as ever.”

“It is because the spirit is inestimable that the lifeless body is so little valued.”

“The world owes all its onward impulses to men ill at ease. The happy man inevitably confines himself within ancient limits.”

“In youth men are apt to write more wisely than they really know or feel; and the remainder of life may be not idly spent in realizing and convincing themselves of the wisdom which they uttered long ago.”

“He knew that the world, and Annie as the representative of the world, whatever praise might be bestowed, could never say the fitting word nor feel the fitting sentiment which should be the perfect recompense of an artist who, symbolizing a lofty moral by a material trifle,—converting what was earthly to spiritual gold,—had won the beautiful into his handiwork. Not at this latest moment was he to learn that the reward of all high performance must be sought within itself, or sought in vain.”

“In view of my previous weariness of office, and vague thoughts of resignation, my fortune somewhat resembled that of a person who should entertain an idea of committing suicide, and, altogether beyond his hopes, meet with the good hap to be murdered.”

“[H]e was now a cold observer, looking on mankind as the subject of his experiment, and, at length, converting man and woman to be his puppets, and pulling the wires that moved them to such degrees of crime as were demanded by his study.
Thus Ethan Brand became a fiend. He began to be so from the moment that his moral nature had ceased to keep the pace of improvement with his intellect.”

“Caresses, expressions of one sort or another, are necessary to the life of the affections as leaves are to the life of a tree. If they are wholly restrained, love will die at the roots.”

“Nobody has any conscience about adding to the improbabilities of a marvelous tale.”

“You can get assent to almost any proposition so long as you are not going to do anything about it.”

“The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison.”

“Would Time but await the close of our favorite follies, we should all be young men, all of us, and until Doom's Day.”

“If his inmost heart could have been laid open, there would have been discovered that dream of undying fame, which, dream as it is, is more powerful than a thousand realities.”

“The marble was all burnt into perfect, snow-white lime. But on its surface, in the midst of the circle,—snow-white too, and thoroughly converted into lime,—lay a human skeleton, in the attitude of a person who, after long toil, lies down to long repose. Within the ribs—strange to say—was the shape of a human heart.
"Was the fellow's heart made of marble?" cried Bertram…
"At any rate, it is burnt into what looks like a special good lime… my kiln is half a bushel the richer for him."…
[T]he rude lime-burner lifted his pole, and, letting it fall upon the skeleton, the relics of Ethan Brand were crumbled into fragments.”

“What would a man do, if he were compelled to live always in the sultry heat of society, and could never bathe himself in cool solitude?”

“"What is the Unpardonable Sin?" asked the lime-burner; and then he shrank farther from his companion, trembling lest his question should be answered. "It is a sin that grew within my own breast," replied Ethan Brand, standing erect with a pride that distinguishes all enthusiasts of his stamp. "A sin that grew nowhere else! The sin of an intellect that triumphed over the sense of brotherhood with man and reverence for God, and sacrificed everything to its own mighty claims!”

“The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers — stern and wild ones, — and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.”

“By the sympathy of your human hearts for sin ye shall scent out all the places — whether in church, bedchamber, street, field, or forest — where crime has been committed, and shall exult to behold the whole earth one stain of guilt, one mighty blood spot.”

“The blacksmith, by main force, unclosed the infant's hand, and found within the palm a small heap of glittering fragments, whence the mystery of beauty had fled forever. …Owen Warland …looked placidly at what seemed the ruin of his life's labor, and which was yet no ruin. He had caught a far other butterfly than this. When the artist rose high enough to achieve the beautiful, the symbol by which he made it perceptible to mortal senses became of little value in his eyes while his spirit possessed itself in the enjoyment of the reality.”

“To persons whose pursuits are insulated from the common business of life—who are either in advance of mankind or apart from it—there often comes a sensation of moral cold that makes the spirit shiver as if it had reached the frozen solitudes around the pole. What the prophet, the poet, the reformer, the criminal, or any other man with human yearnings, but separated from the multitude by a peculiar lot, might feel, poor Owen felt.”

“Somewhat of a babbler, indeed, did people begin to think him; for he was apt to discourse at wearisome length of marvels of mechanism that he had read about… Among them he enumerated the Man of Brass, constructed by Albertus Magnus, and the Brazen Head of Friar Bacon… the automata of a little coach and horses, which it was pretended had been manufactured for the Dauphin of France; together with an insect that buzzed about the ear like a living fly… a duck that waddled, and quacked, and ate… In his idle and dreamy days he had considered it possible… to spiritualize machinery… a beauty that should attain to the ideal which Nature proposed to herself in all her creatures…”

“"But is it alive?" exclaimed she again; and the finger on which the gorgeous mystery had alighted was so tremulous that the butterfly was forced to balance himself with his wings. "Tell me if it be alive, or whether you created it. But"—and here his countenance somewhat changed—"this butterfly is not now to me what it was when I beheld it afar off in a daydream of my youth."”