The American Scholar (1837) by Ralph Waldo Emerson & Character, Experience, and the Secrets of the Mind & Spirit
“Character is higher than intellect.”
Where Books and Readers Come Together
“Character is higher than intellect.”
“Don’t worry so much. Trust your instinct and trust your own efforts.”
“Fiction is art and art is the triumph over chaos.”
“It’s not even accurate to call it the past, for the events related in these pages didn’t occur in the past. The details that have been preserved are already abundant. Sealed in floating bottles, they will hopefully reach the new universe and endure there.”
“And he remembered as one remembers a dream long past how O-lan rested from her work a little while and fed the child richly and the white rich milk ran out of her breast and spilled upon the ground. And this seemed too long past ever to have been.”
“But lately, don’t ask why, I’ve no taste for comedy, no inclination to exercise, even if I had the space, no delight in fire or earth, in words that once revealed a golden world of majestical stars, the beauty of poetic apprehension, the infinite joy of reason.”
“The big question in my mind is not if your mom is coming back. It’s if Pete is, and if I’ll get a chance at having someone like you.”
“Maybe I am fated to always be alone, Tsukuru found himself thinking.”
“Suppose a vast number of civilizations are distributed throughout the universe, on the order of the number of detectable stars. Lots and lots of them. Those civilizations make up the body of a cosmic society. Cosmic sociology is the study of the nature of this super-society” (p 12).
“She was intoxicated by her brilliant, crimson dream until a bullet pierced her chest.”
“Well, to me, that’s what love is. Not that anyone can understand me, though.”
“When I first started writing the novel, like twenty years ago, Laura had thrown caution to the winds and accepted a part in a local production of A Midsummer Nights Dream.”
“To love abundantly is to live abundantly. To love forever is to live forever.”
“It had rained Saturday night, but the rain had dwindled to a stop before dawn, and across the river, above and beyond the belfry and steeple, the green whaleback of Monadnock was wreathed in gossamer wisps of fog.”














