What know we of the Blest above but that they sing, and that they love?
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the nature of the blessed and their existence, emphasizing love and joy.
William Wordsworth's quote evokes a sense of mystery and reverence towards the divine or the blessed beings above, suggesting that while we may not fully understand their existence, we do know that they engage in singing and loving. This encapsulates a belief in the intrinsic connection between joy, love, and the higher states of being, encouraging humans to aspire towards these virtues.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of love in our lives.
For mightier far_x000D_ _x000D_ Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway_x000D_ _x000D_ Of magic potent over sun and star,_x000D_ _x000D_ Is love, though oft to agony distrest,_x000D_ _x000D_ And though his favourite be feeble woman's breast.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,_x000D_ _x000D_ The earth, and every common sight,_x000D_ _x000D_ To me did seem_x000D_ _x000D_ Apparelled in celestial light,_x000D_ _x000D_ The glory and the freshness of a dream.
Books are yours, Within whose silent chambers treasure lies Preserved from age to age; more precious far Than that accumulated store of gold And orient gems, which, for a day of need, The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. These hoards of truth you can unlock at will.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
People can't live with change if there's not a changeless core inside them.
Plato says that the unexamined life is not worth living. But what if the examined life turns out to be a clunker as well?
Truth is one forever absolute, but opinion is truth filtered through the moods, the blood, the disposition of the spectator.
I hated labels anyway. People didn't fit in slots--prostitute, housewife, saint--like sorting the mail. We were so mutable, fluid with fear and desire, ideals and angles, changeable as water.
False words are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil.
Outer beauty is inner beauty made visible, and it manifests itself in the light that flows in our eyes.
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