
Letter to Abigail Adams (17 July 1775)
1770s
Source: Letters of John Adams, Addressed to His Wife
Letter to Abigail Adams (17 July 1775)
1770s
Source: Letters of John Adams, Addressed to His Wife
“It is seldom, that liberty of any kind is lost all at once.”
Part I, Essay 2: Of the Liberty of the Press
Essays, Moral, Political, and Literary (1741-2; 1748)
Context: It is a very comfortable reflection to the lovers of liberty, that this peculiar privilege of Britain is of a kind that cannot easily be wrested from us, but must last as long as our government remains, in any degree, free and independent. It is seldom, that liberty of any kind is lost all at once. Slavery has so frightful an aspect to men accustomed to freedom, that it must steal upon them by degrees, and must disguise itself in a thousand shapes, in order to be received. But, if the liberty of the press ever be lost, it must be lost at once. The general laws against sedition and libelling are at present as strong as they possibly can be made. Nothing can impose a farther restraint, but either the clapping an Imprimatur upon the press, or the giving to the court very large discretionary powers to punish whatever displeases them. But these concessions would be such a bare-faced violation of liberty, that they will probably be the last efforts of a despotic government. We may conclude, that the liberty of Britain is gone for ever when these attempts shall succeed.
“This could but have happened once,—
And we missed it, lost it forever.”
Youth and Art, xvii.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)
“Weep for what is lost forever.”
Moiraine Damodred
(15 January 1990)
“Already then something was lost forever, a basic trust.”
Source: Beatrice & Virgil (2010), p. 175
Context: I remember the first slap, just as I was being brought in. Already then something was lost forever, a basic trust. If there's an exquisite collection of Meissen porcelain and a man takes a cup and deliberately drops it to the floor, shattering it, why wouldn't he then proceed to break everything else? What difference does it make, cup or tureen, once the man has made clear his disregard for porcelain? With that first blow, something akin to porcelain shattered in me. It was a hard slap, forceful yet casual, given for no reason, before I had even identified myself. If they would do that to me, why wouldn't they do worse? Indeed, how could they stop themselves? A single blow is a dot, meaningless. It's a line that is wanted, a connection between the dots that will give purpose and direction. One blow demands a second and then a third and onwards.