It takes a wonderful brain and exquisite senses to produce a few stupid ideas.
George SantayanaRead
Oaths are the fossils of piety.
Interpretation
Oaths represent a hollow form of devotion that has become obsolete over time.
In this quote, George Santayana suggests that oaths, which were once seen as significant commitments or expressions of faith, have lost their true meaning and relevance, akin to fossils that no longer serve their original purpose. This highlights a broader commentary on the decay of genuine piety and sincerity in human relationships and promises, indicating that mere words without authentic commitment are ultimately meaningless.
In practice
In a debate about the relevance of promises in modern society, this quote could underscore a point about the need for genuine commitment.
It takes a wonderful brain and exquisite senses to produce a few stupid ideas.
The working of great institutions is mainly the result of a vast mass of routine, petty malice, self interest, carelessness and sheer mistake. Only a residual fraction is thought.
There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. The dark background which death supplies brings out the tender colours of life in all their purity.
Not to believe in love is a great sign of dullness. There are some people so indirect and lumbering that they think all real affection rests on circumstantial evidence.
To feel beauty is a better thing than to understand how we come to feel it. To have imagination and taste, to love the best, to be carried by the contemplation of nature to a vivid faith in the ideal, all this is more, a great deal more, than any science can hope to be.
The vital straining towards an ideal, definite but latent, when it dominates a whole life, may express that ideal more fully than could the best chosen words.
There are 3 questions that would destroy most of the arguments of the Left. The first is - compared to what? The second is - at what cost? And the third is - what hard evidence do you have?
The physical body is acknowledged as dust, the personal drama as delusion. It is as if the world we perceive through our senses, the whole gorgeous and terrible pageant, were the breath-thin surface of a bubble, and everything else, inside and outside, is pure radiance. Both suffering and joy come then like a brief reflection, and death like a pin.
When I think of death, I only regret that I will not be able to see this beautiful country anymore unless the Indians are right and my spirit will walk here after I'm gone.
The central belief of every moron is that he is the victim of a mysterious conspiracy against his common rights and true deserts.
The true mystic is always both humble and compassionate, for she knows that she does not know.
I have no influence with the rising generation. All my arguments have failed to induce them to set bounds to their wants.
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