Quotes about scorn
page 3

Franz Marc photo

“Art is nothing but the expression of our dream; the more we surrender to it the closer we get to the inner truth of things, our dream-life, the true life that scorns questions and does not see them.”

Franz Marc (1880–1916) German painter

quote from Franz Marc's note in 1907, he wrote down on his return from Paris; as cited by de:Wolf-Dieter Dube, in Expressionism; Praeger Publishers, New York, 1973, p. 126
1905 - 1910

Auguste Rodin photo

“I feel it, but I cannot express it,… I cannot analyse the Celtic genius to my own satisfaction. In the Middle Ages art came from groups, not from individuals. It was anonymous; the sculptors of cathedrals no more put their names to their works than our workmen put theirs on the pavement that they lay. Ah! what an admirable scorn of notoriety! The signature is what destroys us. We do portraits, but what we do is not so great. Thèse kings and queens, on the cathedrals, were not portraits. The fellow-workers stood for one another, and they interpreted; they did not copy. They made clothed figures; the nude and portraiture only date from the Renascence. And then those fellows cut with the tool's end into the block, that is why they were called sculptors. As for us, we are modellers. And what a disgraceful thing that casting from life is, which so many well-known sculptors do not blush to use! It is a mere swindling in art. Art was a vital function to the image-makers of the thirteenth century; they would hâve laughed at the idea of signing what they did, and never dreamed of honours and titles. When once their work was finished, they said no more about it, or else they talked among themselves. How curious it would hâve been to hear them, to be present at their gatherings, where they must hâve discussed in amusing phrases, and with simple, deep ideas!… Whenever the cathedrals disappear civilisation will go down one step. And even now we no longer understand them, we no longer know how to read their silent language. We need to make excavations not in the earth, but towards heaven…”

Auguste Rodin (1840–1917) French sculptor

Source: Auguste Rodin: The Man, His Ideas, His Works, 1905, p. 63-64; About the genius of the Gothic sculptors.

Julian of Norwich photo
Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
Fidel Castro photo
Khalil Gibran photo
African Spir photo
Emil M. Cioran photo
Winston S. Churchill photo

“They ravage and sweep away my banquet, and befoul and upset the cups, there is a violent stench and a sorry battle arises, for the monsters are as famished as I. What all have scorned or polluted with their touch, or what has fallen from their filthy claws, helps me to linger thus among the living.”
Diripiunt verruntque dapes foedataque turbant pocula, saevit odor surgitque miserrima pugna parque mihi monstrisque fames. sprevere quod omnes pollueruntque manu quodque unguibus excidit atris has mihi fert in luce moras.

Source: Argonautica, Book IV, Lines 454–456

William Cowper photo
Isaac Asimov photo
John Davidson photo

“Unwilling friend, let not your spite abate;
Help me with scorn, and strengthen me with hate.”

John Davidson (1857–1909) Scottish poet

"To My Enemy", p. 2
Ballads and Songs (1894)

John Milton photo

“Alas! what boots it with incessant care
To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade,
And strictly meditate the thankless Muse?
Were it not better done as others use,
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorrèd shears,
And slits the thin-spun life.”

Source: Lycidas (1637), Line 64; comparable to: "Erant quibus appetentior famæ videretur, quando etiam sapientibus cupido gloriae novissima exuitur" (Translated: "Some might consider him as too fond of fame, for the desire of glory clings even to the best of men longer than any other passion"), Tacitus, Historiae, iv. 6; said of Helvidius Priscus.

William Wordsworth photo
John Marston photo
Robert G. Ingersoll photo
Theodore Dalrymple photo

“Whereas fortitude was once regarded as a virtue, it has come to be regarded as a kind of reprehensible and deliberate obtuseness, to be utterly condemned as treason to the self (there is no fury like a non-judgmentalist scorned).”

Theodore Dalrymple (1949) English doctor and writer

Bad counsel http://www.newcriterion.com/archive/23/jun05/therap.htm (June 2005).
New Criterion (2000 - 2005)

Omar Khayyám photo
William Drummond of Hawthornden photo
Matthew Lewis (writer) photo

“Farewel, thou cruel world! – to morrow
No more thy scorn my heart shall tear: –
The grave will shield the child of sorrow,
And heaven will hear the orphan's prayer.”

Matthew Lewis (writer) (1775–1818) English novelist and dramatist

"The Orphan's Prayer", line 29; cited from Titus Strong (ed.) The Common Reader (Greenfield, Mass.: Denio & Phelps, 1819) p. 174.

Robert Burns photo
Thomas Chatterton photo
John Marston photo
Dan Quayle photo

“This is what I say about the scorn of the media elite: I wear their scorn as a badge of honor.”

Dan Quayle (1947) American politician, lawyer

Speech to the Southern Baptist Convention in Indianapolis (9 June 1992)

Richard Bach photo
Julian of Norwich photo
Basava photo

“Though shall not steal nor kill;
Not speak a lie;
Be angry with no one,
Nor scorn another man;
Nor glory in thyself;
Nor others hold you to blame
This is your inward purity;
This is your outward purity;
This is the way to win our Lord:
Kudalasangama”

Basava (1134–1196) a 12th-century Hindu philosopher, statesman, Kannada Bhakti poet of Lingayatism

Quoted in [Chekki, Danesh A. Chekki, Religion and Social System of the Vīraśaiva Community, http://books.google.com/books?id=x7JZMy1qntgC&pg=PA51, 1 January 1997, Greenwood Publishing Group, 978-0-313-30251-0, 51–]

“Women see through and through each other; and often we most admire her whom they most scorn.”

Charles Buxton (1823–1871) English brewer, philanthropist, writer and politician

Source: Notes of Thought (1883), p. 178

Maxwell D. Taylor photo
George Wither photo

“Though I am young, I scorn to flit
On the wings of borrowed wit.”

George Wither (1588–1667) English poet

The Shepherd’s Hunting (printed 1615); reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

Ernst Bloch photo
Robert Greene (dramatist) photo

“Deceiving world, that with alluring toys
Hast made my life the subject of thy scorn,
And scornest now to lend thy fading joys,
T'outlength my life, whom friends have left forlorn;
How well are they that die ere they be born,
And never see thy sleights, which few men shun
Till unawares they helpless are undone!”

Robert Greene (dramatist) (1558–1592) English author

"Verses", line 1, from Groatsworth of Wit (1592); Dyce p. 310.
Groatsworth of Wit was published posthumously under Greene's name, but it was heavily revised by Henry Chettle, and may have been partially or even totally written by him.

Simonides of Ceos photo

“Here lies Megistias, who died
When the Medes crossed Spercheius' tide.
A great seer, yet he scorned to save
Himself, and shared the Spartans' grave.”

Simonides of Ceos (-556–-468 BC) Ancient Greek musician and poet

Epitaph of the Spartan Diviner, Megistias, at Thermopylae

Franz Marc photo
Noam Chomsky photo

“In the past, the United States has sometimes, kind of sardonically, been described as a one-party state: the business party with two factions called Democrats and Republicans. That’s no longer true. It’s still a one-party state, the business party. But it only has one faction. The faction is moderate Republicans, who are now called Democrats. There are virtually no moderate Republicans in what’s called the Republican Party and virtually no liberal Democrats in what’s called the Democratic [sic] Party. It’s basically a party of what would be moderate Republicans and similarly, Richard Nixon would be way at the left of the political spectrum today. Eisenhower would be in outer space. There is still something called the Republican Party, but it long ago abandoned any pretence of being a normal parliamentary party. It’s in lock-step service to the very rich and the corporate sector and has a catechism that everyone has to chant in unison, kind of like the old Communist Party. The distinguished conservative commentator, one of the most respected – Norman Ornstein – describes today’s Republican Party as, in his words, “a radical insurgency – ideologically extreme, scornful of facts and compromise, dismissive of its political opposition””

Noam Chomsky (1928) american linguist, philosopher and activist

a serious danger to the society, as he points out.
Quotes 2010s, 2013, Speech at DW Global Media Forum

W. Somerset Maugham photo
William Saroyan photo
Wilfred Thesiger photo
Charles Darwin photo
Thomas Wolfe photo

“Curst Love! what lengths of tyrant scorn
Wreak'st not on those of woman born?”

John Conington (1825–1869) British classical scholar

Source: Translations, The Aeneid of Virgil (1866), Book IV, p. 127

Arnobius photo
Phillis Wheatley photo

“Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
"Their colour is a diabolic die."
Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.”

Phillis Wheatley (1753–1784) American poet

"On Being Brought from Africa to America" lines 5-8, Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral (1773)

Eugene V. Debs photo
John Suckling photo
William Edward Hartpole Lecky photo

“The ironist is not bitter, he does not seek to undercut everything that seems worthy or serious, he scorns the cheap scoring-off of the wisecracker.”

Part 2, section 6.
The Cunning Man (1994)
Context: The ironist is not bitter, he does not seek to undercut everything that seems worthy or serious, he scorns the cheap scoring-off of the wisecracker. He stands, so to speak, somewhat at one side, observes and speaks with a moderation which is occasionally embellished with a flash of controlled exaggeration. He speaks from a certain depth, and thus he is not of the same nature as the wit, who so often speaks from the tongue and no deeper. The wit's desire is to be funny; the ironist is only funny as a secondary achievement.

Ralph Waldo Emerson photo

“Be it how it will, do right now. Always scorn appearances, and you always may. The force of character is cumulative.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882) American philosopher, essayist, and poet

1840s, Essays: First Series (1841), Self-Reliance
Context: Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. Act singly, and what you have already done singly will justify you now. Greatness appeals to the future. If I can be firm enough to-day to do right, and scorn eyes, I must have done so much right before as to defend me now. Be it how it will, do right now. Always scorn appearances, and you always may. The force of character is cumulative.

Ellen Willis photo

“My education was dominated by modernist thinkers and artists who taught me that the supreme imperative was courage to face the awful truth, to scorn the soft-minded optimism of religious and secular romantics as well as the corrupt optimism of governments, advertisers, and mechanistic or manipulative revolutionaries. I learned that lesson well”

Ellen Willis (1941–2006) writer, activist

"Tom Wolfe's Failed Optimism" (1977), Beginning To See the Light: Pieces of a Decade (1981)
Context: My education was dominated by modernist thinkers and artists who taught me that the supreme imperative was courage to face the awful truth, to scorn the soft-minded optimism of religious and secular romantics as well as the corrupt optimism of governments, advertisers, and mechanistic or manipulative revolutionaries. I learned that lesson well (though it came too late to wholly supplant certain critical opposing influences, like comic books and rock-and-roll). Yet the modernists’ once-subversive refusal to be gulled or lulled has long since degenerated into a ritual despair at least as corrupt, soft-minded, and cowardly — not to say smug — as the false cheer it replaced. The terms of the dialectic have reversed: now the subversive task is to affirm an authentic post-modernist optimism that gives full weight to existent horror and possible (or probable) apocalyptic disaster, yet insists — credibly — that we can, well, overcome. The catch is that you have to be an optimist (an American?) in the first place not to dismiss such a project as insane.

William Wordsworth photo

“Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
A Poet worthy of Rob Roy
Must scorn a timid song.”

William Wordsworth (1770–1850) English Romantic poet

Rob Roy's Grave, st. 3.
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)

Quintus Curtius Rufus photo

“Just as in ailing bodies, my soldiers, physicians leave nothing which will do harm, so let us cut away whatever stands in the way of our rule. Often to have ignored a tiny spark has roused a great conflagration. Nothing is safely despised in an enemy; one whom you have scorned you make stronger by neglect.”
Sicut in corporibus aegris, milites, nihil quod nociturum est medici relinquunt, sic nos quidquid obstat imperio recidamus. Parva sæpe scintilla contempta magnum excitavit incendium. Nil tuto in hoste despicitur; quem spreveris, valentiorem neglentia facias.

Quintus Curtius Rufus Roman historian

VI, 3, 11; translation by John Carew Rolfe
Historiarum Alexandri Magni Macedonis Libri Qui Supersunt, Book VI

Carl Barus photo

“The boon of an appropriate lemma is ideal generosity, and not even a mathematician can scorn its almost mathematical elegance.”

Carl Barus (1856–1935) U.S. physicist

"The Mathematical Theory of the Top" (April 8, 1898)

Aleister Crowley photo

“I chose therefore the name.
"MAGICK"
as essentially the most sublime, and actually the most discredited, of all the available terms.
I swore to rehabilitate
MAGICK,
to identify it with my own career; and to compel mankind to respect, love, and trust that which they scorned, hated and feared. I have kept my Word.”

Aleister Crowley (1875–1947) poet, mountaineer, occultist

Introduction.
Magick Book IV : Liber ABA, Part III : Magick in Theory and Practice (1929)
Context: In my third year at Cambridge, I devoted myself consciously to the Great Work, understanding thereby the Work of becoming a Spiritual Being, free from the constraints, accidents, and deceptions of material existence.
I found myself at a loss for a name to designate my work, just as H. P. Blavatsky some years earlier. "Theosophy", "Spiritualism", "Occultism", "Mysticism", all involved undesirable connotations.
I chose therefore the name.
"MAGICK"
as essentially the most sublime, and actually the most discredited, of all the available terms.
I swore to rehabilitate
MAGICK,
to identify it with my own career; and to compel mankind to respect, love, and trust that which they scorned, hated and feared. I have kept my Word.

Albert Camus photo

“There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn.”

The Myth of Sisyphus (1942), The Myth of Sisyphus
Context: There is no fate that can not be surmounted by scorn.
If the descent is thus sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. This word is not too much. Again I fancy Sisyphus returning toward his rock, and the sorrow was in the beginning.

Aeschylus photo

“O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray,
To come to me: of cureless ills thou art
The one physician. Pain lays not its touch
Upon a corpse.”

Aeschylus (-525–-456 BC) ancient Athenian playwright

Fragment 250 (trans. by Plumptre), reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

“I saw in it a thing
That scorned the grossness of the thing I wrote.
It hung upon my finger like a sting.”

Karl Shapiro (1913–2000) Poet, essayist

"Interludes" III, in From Darkness To Light : A Confession of Faith in the form of an Anthology (1956) edited by Victor Gollancz
Context: Writing, I crushed an insect with my nail
And thought nothing at all. A bit of wing
Caught my eye then, a gossamer so frail And exquisite, I saw in it a thing
That scorned the grossness of the thing I wrote.
It hung upon my finger like a sting.

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan photo

“It is true that internationalism is growing. Economists warn us that war does not pay. It is bad business. Some of us are growing pacifist by policy, though not by conviction. The spirit of internationalism is but skin-deep. Except a small minority in each country who remained heroically faithful to its principles, the rest sacrificed their humanity at the altar of their country in the last war. Even the dignitaries of the Church proved themselves to be of the school of Mephistopheles, "who built God a church and laughed his word to scorn." Churches were turned into recruiting offices. The fanatic appeals of all sides to the Almighty must have confused God himself, and the frame of mind in which the onlookers were is well expressed in J. C. Squire's quatrain : —
: God heard the embattled nations sing and shout
"Gott strafe England" and "God save the King!"
God this, God that, and God the other thing –
"Good God!" said God, "I've got my work cut out!"
It is true that we have the League of Nations, but it is only a mechanical frame and the soul has still to grow into its body. The spirit of ill-will and distrust is widespread. Internationalism is only an idea cherished by a few and not a part of human psychology. Ten years after the peace, the sky is not clearer than it was in August, 1914. Europe has a million more men under arms than there were before the war.”

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan (1888–1975) Indian philosopher and statesman who was the first Vice President and the second President of India

Kalki : or The Future of Civilization (1929)

Stephen Crane photo

“The hard waves see an arm flung high;
Scorn hits strong because of a lie;
Yet there exists a mystic tie.
Unwind my riddle.”

Stephen Crane (1871–1900) American novelist, short story writer, poet, and journalist

Epigraph in " The Clan of No Name http://web.archive.org/20040803101258/www.geocities.com/stephen_crane_us/clannoname.html" (1899); published in the anthology Wounds in the Rain (1900)
Context: Unwind my riddle.
Cruel as hawks the hours fly;
Wounded men seldom come home to die;
The hard waves see an arm flung high;
Scorn hits strong because of a lie;
Yet there exists a mystic tie.
Unwind my riddle.

Vita Sackville-West photo

“Why should a poet pray thus? poets scorn
The boundaried love of country, being free
Of winds, and alien lands, and distances,
Vagabonds of the compass, wayfarers,
Pilgrims of thought, the tongues of Pentecost
Their privilege”

Vita Sackville-West (1892–1962) English writer and gardener

Winter, p. 4
The Land (1926)
Context: Why should a poet pray thus? poets scorn
The boundaried love of country, being free
Of winds, and alien lands, and distances,
Vagabonds of the compass, wayfarers,
Pilgrims of thought, the tongues of Pentecost
Their privilege, and in the peddler's pack
The curious treasures of their stock-in-trade,
Bossy and singular, the heritage
Of poetry and science, polished bright,
Thin with the rubbing of too many hands;
Myth, glamour, hazard, fables dim as age,
Faith, doubt, perplexity, grief, hope, despair,
Wings, and great waters, and Promethean fire,
Man's hand to clasp, and Helen's mouth to kiss.
Why then in little meadows hedge about
A poet's pasture? shed a poet's cloak
For fustian? cede a birthright, thus to map
So small a corner of so great a world?

Alfred, Lord Tennyson photo

“The poet in a golden clime was born,
With golden stars above;
Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn,
The love of love.”

The Poet (1830)
Context: The poet in a golden clime was born,
With golden stars above;
Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn,
The love of love.
He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill,
He saw thro' his own soul.
The marvel of the everlasting will,
An open scroll,
Before him lay; with echoing feet he threaded
The secretest walks of fame:
The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed
And wing'd with flame,
Like Indian reeds blown from his silver tongue...

Alfred, Lord Tennyson photo

“Acting the law we live by without fear;
And, because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.”

"Oenone", st. 14
Context: Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,
These three alone lead life to sovereign power.
Yet not for power (power of herself
Would come uncall'd for) but to live by law,
Acting the law we live by without fear;
And, because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.

William Morris photo

“When the dead, and their deeds that die not shall awaken,
And the world's tale shall sound in your trumpet of warning,
And the sun smite the banner called Scorn of the Scorning,
And dead pain ye shall trample, dead fruitless desire,
As ye wend to pluck out the new world from the fire.”

William Morris (1834–1896) author, designer, and craftsman

Love is Enough (1872), Song VI: Cherish Life that Abideth
Context: Live on, for Love liveth, and earth shall be shaken
By the wind of his wings on the triumphing morning,
When the dead, and their deeds that die not shall awaken,
And the world's tale shall sound in your trumpet of warning,
And the sun smite the banner called Scorn of the Scorning,
And dead pain ye shall trample, dead fruitless desire,
As ye wend to pluck out the new world from the fire.

Edwin Abbott Abbott photo

“Awestruck at the sight of the mysteries of the earth, thus unveiled before my unworthy eye, I said to my Companion, "Behold, I am become as a God. For the wise men in our country say that to see all things, or as they express it, OMNIVIDENCE, is the attribute of God alone." There was something of scorn in the voice of my Teacher as he made answer: "Is it so indeed? Then the very pick-pockets and cut-throats of my country are to be worshiped by your wise men as being Gods: for there is not one of them that does not see as much as you see now. But trust me, your wise men are wrong."”

Source: Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions (1884), PART II: OTHER WORLDS, Chapter 18. How I came to Spaceland, and What I Saw There
Context: Once more I felt myself rising through space. It was even as the Sphere had said. The further we receded from the object we beheld, the larger became the field of vision. My native city, with the interior of every house and every creature therein, lay open to my view in miniature. We mounted higher, and lo, the secrets of the earth, the depths of mines and inmost caverns of the hills, were bared before me.Awestruck at the sight of the mysteries of the earth, thus unveiled before my unworthy eye, I said to my Companion, "Behold, I am become as a God. For the wise men in our country say that to see all things, or as they express it, OMNIVIDENCE, is the attribute of God alone." There was something of scorn in the voice of my Teacher as he made answer: "Is it so indeed? Then the very pick-pockets and cut-throats of my country are to be worshiped by your wise men as being Gods: for there is not one of them that does not see as much as you see now. But trust me, your wise men are wrong."

Robert Williams Buchanan photo

“It is not that I mourn you,
To mourn you were to scorn you,
For you are one step nearer to the beauty singers seek.”

Robert Williams Buchanan (1841–1901) Scottish poet, novelist and dramatist

"To David in Heaven", St. 10.
Undertones (1883)
Context: Upward my face I turn to you,
I long for you, I yearn to you,
The spectral vision trances me to utt'rance wild and weak;
It is not that I mourn you,
To mourn you were to scorn you,
For you are one step nearer to the beauty singers seek.
But I want, and cannot see you,
I seek and cannot find you,
And, see! I touch the book of songs you tenderly left behind you!

“Applause we crave, from scorn we take defence
But have no armour 'gainst indifference.”

Robertson Davies (1913–1995) Canadian journalist, playwright, professor, critic, and novelist

A Prologue (1939) to Oliver Goldsmith's The Good Natur'd Man (1768).
Context: Our fate lies in your hands, to you we pray
For an indulgent hearing of our play;
Laugh if you can, or failing that, give vent
In hissing fury to your discontent;
Applause we crave, from scorn we take defence
But have no armour 'gainst indifference.

Apuleius photo
Margaret Thatcher photo
Vladimir Lenin photo
Carl Sagan photo
Seneca the Younger photo
Seneca the Younger photo
Johann Most photo
Fyodor Dostoyevsky photo
Swathi Thirunal Rama Varma photo
Patrick Swift photo
Joe Clark photo
Jerome K. Jerome photo

“But if we look a little deeper we shall find there is a pathetic, one might almost say a tragic, side to the picture. A shy man means a lonely man—a man cut off from all companionship, all sociability. He moves about the world, but does not mix with it. Between him and his fellow-men there runs ever an impassable barrier—a strong, invisible wall that, trying in vain to scale, he but bruises himself against. He sees the pleasant faces and hears the pleasant voices on the other side, but he cannot stretch his hand across to grasp another hand. He stands watching the merry groups, and he longs to speak and to claim kindred with them. But they pass him by, chatting gayly to one another, and he cannot stay them. He tries to reach them, but his prison walls move with him and hem him in on every side. In the busy street, in the crowded room, in the grind of work, in the whirl of pleasure, amid the many or amid the few—wherever men congregate together, wherever the music of human speech is heard and human thought is flashed from human eyes, there, shunned and solitary, the shy man, like a leper, stands apart. His soul is full of love and longing, but the world knows it not. The iron mask of shyness is riveted before his face, and the man beneath is never seen. Genial words and hearty greetings are ever rising to his lips, but they die away in unheard whispers behind the steel clamps. His heart aches for the weary brother, but his sympathy is dumb. Contempt and indignation against wrong choke up his throat, and finding no safety-valve whence in passionate utterance they may burst forth, they only turn in again and harm him. All the hate and scorn and love of a deep nature such as the shy man is ever cursed by fester and corrupt within, instead of spending themselves abroad, and sour him into a misanthrope and cynic.”

Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886)

Ture Nerman photo

“But we hate the system - capitalism, militarism, reaction – and that system we scorn with a healthy, burning, eternal hatred.”

Ture Nerman (1886–1969) Swedish socialist

Socialist newspaper Folkets Dagblad - Politiken (24 April 1918)

William Wordsworth photo
William Wordsworth photo

“Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave;
Forgive me if the phrase be strong;—
A Poet worthy of Rob Roy
Must scorn a timid song.”

William Wordsworth (1770–1850) English Romantic poet

Rob Roy's Grave, st. 3
Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)

Neil Kinnock photo
George Eliot photo
Neal Stephenson photo

“It is only a certain type of mind that scorns what is known by all and reads secrets as jewels.”

“Five Thousand Years Later” (p. 749)
Seveneves (2015), Part Three

Martin Luther King, Jr. photo
Seneca the Younger photo

“It is the quality of a great soul to scorn great things and to prefer that which is ordinary rather than that which is too great.”

Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium (Moral Letters to Lucilius), Letter XXXIX: On Noble Aspirations

William Henry Davies photo
Mwanandeke Kindembo photo
Isaac Asimov photo

“Predicting the future is a hopeless, thankless task, with ridicule to begin with and, all too often, scorn to end with.”

Isaac Asimov (1920–1992) American writer and professor of biochemistry at Boston University, known for his works of science fiction …

"The World of 1990" in The Diners' Club Magazine, January 1965
General sources

Stephen Crane photo

“Unwind my riddle.
Cruel as hawks the hours fly;
Wounded men seldom come home to die;
The hard waves see an arm flung high;
Scorn hits strong because of a lie;
Yet there exists a mystic tie.
Unwind my riddle.”

Stephen Crane (1871–1900) American novelist, short story writer, poet, and journalist

Source: Epigraph in " The Clan of No Name http://web.archive.org/20040803101258/www.geocities.com/stephen_crane_us/clannoname.html" (1899); published in the anthology Wounds in the Rain (1900)

Harry Emerson Fosdick photo
Alfred Noyes photo
Symeon the New Theologian photo

“Arrogance cannot bear to see itself scorned and humility held in honor.”

Symeon the New Theologian (949–1022) Christian saint, monk, and theologian

One Hundred and Fifty-three Practical and Theological Texts, in Philokalia, Text 13