The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll: Tributes and miscellany

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Dresden Publishing Company, 1915

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Página 388 - He believed that happiness is the only good, reason the only torch, justice the only worship, humanity the only religion, and love the only priest. He added to the sum of human joy ; and were every one to whom he did some loving service to bring a blossom to his grave, he would sleep tonight beneath a wilderness of flowers. Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing...
Página 250 - Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you," applies to all who would help others to gain their liberty.
Página 414 - Lay her i' the earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring!
Página 389 - ... love can hear the rustle of a wing. He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath,
Página 14 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past ; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Página 388 - ... lay down by the wayside, and, using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still. While yet in love with life and raptured with the world he passed to silence and pathetic dust.
Página 387 - I am going to do that which the dead oft promised he would do for me. The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood's morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling toward the west. He had not passed on life's highway the stone that marks the highest point ; but, being weary for a moment, he lay down by the wayside, and, using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids still.
Página 85 - They broke the shackles from the limbs of slaves, from the souls of masters, and from the Northern brain. They kept our country on the map of the world and our flag in Heaven.
Página 402 - This chaos called the world has never been explained. The golden bridge of life from gloom emerges, and on shadow rests. Beyond this we do not know. Fate is speechless, destiny is dumb, and the secret of the future has never yet been told. We love ; we wait ; we hope.
Página 427 - What custom wills, in all things should we do't, The dust on antique time would lie unswept, And mountainous error be too highly heaped For truth to o'erpeer.

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