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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"The Pocket R.L.S., being favourite passages from the works of Stevenson"

So they weave for
themselves with words and for a while inhabit a palace of
delights, temple at once and theatre, where they fill the
round of the world's dignities, and feast with the gods,
exulting in Kudos. And when the talk is over, each goes
his way, still flushed with vanity and admiration, still
trailing clouds of glory; each declines from the height of
his ideal orgie, not in a moment, but by slow declension.
*
No man was ever so poor that he could express all he has in
him by words, looks, or actions; his true knowledge is
eternally incommunicable, for it is a knowledge of himself;
and his best wisdom comes to him by no process of the mind,
but in a supreme self-dictation, which keeps varying from
hour to hour in its dictates with the variation of events
and circumstances.
*
Overmastering pain--the most deadly and tragical element in
life--alas! pain has its own way with all of us; it breaks
in, a rude visitant, upon the fairy garden where the child
wanders in a dream, no less surely than it rules upon the
field of battle, or sends the immortal war-god whimpering
to his father; and innocence, no more than philosophy, can
protect us from this sting.
*
Where did you hear that it was easy to be honest? Do you
find that in your Bible? Easy? It is easy to be an ass
and follow the multitude like a blind, besotted bull in a
stampede; and that, I am well aware, is what you and Mrs.


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