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When a thing is said to be not worth refuting you may be sure that either it is flagrantly stupid - in which case all comment is superfluous - or it is something formidable, the very crux of the problem.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Interpretation

What this quote means

The quote suggests that if an idea is dismissed without debate, it is either obviously foolish or deeply significant.

Percy Bysshe Shelley highlights the importance of engagement in intellectual discourse. If a statement or idea is deemed 'not worth refuting,' it often indicates one of two extremes: either the idea lacks any merit and does not require a response, or it represents a profound and challenging notion that is central to understanding a complex issue. In essence, Shelley encourages critical thinking and the need to confront serious ideas rather than avoid them.

Themes

ArgumentIntellectDiscussionCritical ThinkingIdeas

In practice

Example use cases

In a debate, one might use this quote to emphasize the importance of addressing significant arguments.

More from Percy Bysshe Shelley

A dream has power to poison sleep.
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Senseless is the breast and cold _x000D_ _x000D_ Which relenting love would fold;_x000D_ _x000D_ Bloodless are the veins and chill _x000D_ _x000D_ Which the pulse of pain did fill; _x000D_ _x000D_ Every little living nerve _x000D_ _x000D_ That from bitter words did swerve _x000D_ _x000D_ Round the tortur'd lips and brow, _x000D_ _x000D_ Are like sapless leaflets now _x000D_ _x000D_ Frozen upon December's bough.
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A sensitive plant in a garden grew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And the young winds fed it with silver dew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And it opened its fan_x000D_ _x000D_ like leaves to the light,_x000D_ _x000D_ and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
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I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Percy Bysshe ShelleyRead
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
Percy Bysshe ShelleyRead

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