“Nothing is a greater stranger to my breast, or a sin that my soul more abhors, than that black and detestable one, ingratitude.”
Letter to Governor Dinwiddie (29 May 1754)
1750s
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George Washington 186
first President of the United States 1732–1799Related quotes
Source: Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community
Source: Sarmad, Martyr to Love Divine, p. 238 (2005)
“Two souls alas! dwell in my breast.”
Zwey Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust.
Outside the Gate of the Town
Faust, Part 1 (1808)
Source: Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community
Poem: Care for Thy Soul as Thing of Greatest Price http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/care-for-thy-soul-as-thing-of-greatest-price/
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.”
Opening lines.
Source: Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.
"The Retreat," l. 7 - 19.
Silex Scintillans (1655)
Context: When yet I had not walk'd above
A mile or two from my first Love,
And looking back, at that short space
Could see a glimpse of His bright face;
When on some gilded cloud or flower
My gazing soul would dwell an hour,
And in those weaker glories spy
Some shadows of eternity;
Before I taught my tongue to wound
My conscience with a sinful sound,
Or had the black art to dispense
A several sin to every sense,
But felt through all this fleshly dress
Bright shoots of everlastingness.
"The pool", p. 140
Short Stories, Collected short stories 1