Misery, anger, indignation, discomfort-those conditions produce literature. Contentment-never. So there you are.
T. E. LawrenceRead
A man who gives himself to be a possession of aliens leads a Yahoo life, having bartered his soul to a brute-master. He is not of them. He may stand against them, persuade himself of a mission, batter and twist them into something which they, of their own accord, would not have been.
Interpretation
The quote discusses the loss of individuality and autonomy when one submits to external control.
T. E. Lawrence reflects on the dangers of surrendering oneself to external forces or influences, suggesting that a person who allows themselves to be dominated by others sacrifices their own soul and individuality. This submission leads to a hollow existence where the individual may convince themselves of a greater purpose, yet ultimately remains a mere puppet controlled by 'brute-masters,' unable to truly belong or thrive.
In practice
In a motivational speech about self-empowerment and resisting societal pressures.
Misery, anger, indignation, discomfort-those conditions produce literature. Contentment-never. So there you are.
All the revision in the world will not save a bad first draft: for the architecture of the thing comes, or fails to come, in the first conception, and revision only affects the detail and ornament, alas!
In peace-armies discipline meant the hunt, not of an average but of an absolute; the hundred per cent standard in which the ninety-nine were played down to the level of the weakest man on parade.... The deeper the discipline, the lower was the individual excellence; also the more sure the performance.
The common base of all the Semitic creeds, winners or losers, was the ever present idea of world-worthlessness. Their profound reaction from matter led them to preach bareness, renunciation, poverty; and the atmosphere of this invention stifled the minds of the desert pitilessly.
Arab civilizations had been of an abstract nature, moral and intellectual rather than applied; and their lack of public spirit made their excellent private qualities futile. They were fortunate in their epoch: Europe had fallen barbarous; and the memory of Greek and Latin learning was fading from men's minds.
We lived many lives in those whirling campaigns, never sparing ourselves; yet when we achieved, and the new world dawned, the old men came out again and took our victory to re-make in the likeness of the former world they knew.
We view things not only from different sides, but with different eyes; we have no wish to find them alike.
Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.
On their deathbed men will speak true, they say.
When we are planning for posterity, we ought to remember that virtue is not hereditary.
There's a taste in my mouth and it's no taste at all.
The effect of power and publicity on all men is the aggravation of self, a sort of tumor that ends by killing the victim's sympathies.
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