Word: passion
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Dates: during 1890-1899
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...Theosophy, he said, was that of the "Atman," or self. The importance of self was universally recognized throughout India, and its position in a future life was a subject of constant discussion among Brahman teachers. The self was the inner consciousness of a man, - it was the heart without passion or vice. It was not this inner consciousness alone, however, which made the ideal of self, though this perhaps was the most important element. It was the whole being of a man, body, thought, sensations, - a combination of all the elements which made the individual. The Brahman was the great...
more imbued with the spirit of antiquity than Swinburne with all his Greek. And why? Because he read, not to become Greek, but drawn by a passion for the same ideal beauty that made the Greeks themselves Greek. The advice of Cato, cum bonis ambula, holds as good of books as of men. If the mind, like the dyer's hand, becomes insensibly subdued to what it works in, so also may it steep itself in a noble and victorious mood, may sweeten itself with a refinement that feels a vulgar thought like a stain, and store up sunshine against...
...service of our fellow men never ends. It changes, but it never ends. It is not yours to serve in heroic ways, in the hardships of camp and the passion...
...they elevate, teach and above all console the imaginative and solitary only, and suffice to him who already suffices to himself. The thought of a god vaguely and vaporously dispersed throughout the visible creation, the conjecture of an animating principle that gives to the sunset its splendors, its passion to the storm, to cloud and wind their sympathy of form and movement, that sustains the faith of the crag in its forlorn endurance, and of the harebell in the slender security of its stem, may inspire or soothe, console or fortify, the man whose physical and mental fibre...
...would perish for want of being understood,- a remark which time has fully justified, and which I never could help sorrowfully applying to a writer of our own day, Mr. Browning. Style is that expression of a just thought in prose, or of a thought infused with imaginative passion in poetry, which is precisely adequate-neither more nor less. I have often thought that a happy image of it is an Italian girl with a jar of water on her head. The necessity of an exact balance gives dignity and something which may almost be called repose, to every motion...