Truly the universe is full of ghosts, not sheeted churchyard spectres, but the inextinguishable elements of individual life, which having once been, can never die, though they blend and change, and change again for ever.
H. Rider HaggardThe unknown is generally taken to be terrible, not as the proverb would infer, from the inherent superstition of man, but because it so often is terrible. He who would tamper with the vast and secret forces that animate the world may well fall a victim to them.
H. Rider Haggard...For like a rugged tree you are hard and sound at the core.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés virtue compliments steadfastness compliment reliability
That which is alive hath known death, and that which is dead can never die, for in the Circle of the Spirit life is naught and death is naught. Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés life death mortality immortality after-death circle-of-life
So they crucified their Messiah? Well can I believe it. That He was a Son of the Living Spirit would be naught to them, if indeed He was so.... They would care little for any God if he came not with pomp and power.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés god religion hatred jesus crucifixion poor-people crucified
Strange are the pictures of the future that mankind can thus draw with this brush of faith and these many-coloured pigments of the imagination! Strange, too, that no one of them tallies with another!
H. Rider HaggardMots clés imagination illusions future belief dreams religion faith mankind ignorance disagreement hopes vain-hopes
Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés life sleep death mortality forget immortality forgetting after-death live-forever
Thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés consciousness perception thinking thought ego helplessness
And now let us love and take that which is given us, and be happy; for in the grave there is no love and no warmth, nor any touching of the lips. Nothing perchance, or perchance but bitter memories of what might have been.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés life love death mortality lovers after-death
The moon went slowly down in loveliness; she departed into the depth of the horizon, and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the stars appeared. Soon, however, they too began to pale before a splendour in the east, and the advent of the dawn declared itself in the newborn blue of heaven. Quieter and yet more quiet grew the sea, quiet as the soft mist that brooded on her bosom, and covered up her troubling, as in our tempestuous life the transitory wreaths of sleep brook upon a pain-racked soul, causing it to forget its sorrow. From the east to the west sped those angels of the Dawn, from sea to sea, from mountain-top to mountain-top, scattering light from breast and wing. On they sped out of the darkness, perfect, glorious; on, over the quiet sea, over the low coast-line, and the swamps beyond, and the mountains above them; over those who slept in peace and those who woke in sorrow; over the evil and the good; over the living and the dead; over the wide world and all that breathes or as breathed thereon.
H. Rider HaggardMots clés life heavens stars moon night sea dusk sunset observation place dawn setting horizon sunrise mist
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