William Hazlitt (1778 – 1830)
English writer remembered for his humanistic essays and literary criticism.
We are all of us more or less the slaves of opinion.
It is well that there is no one without a fault; for he would not have a friend in the world.
All that is worth remembering in life, is the poetry of it.
You know more of a road by having travelled it then by all the conjectures and descriptions in the world.
The person whose doors I enter with most pleasure, and quit with most regret, never did me the smallest favour.
Poetry is the universal language which the heart holds with nature and itself. He who has a contempt for poetry, cannot have much respect for himself, or for anything else.
It is better to be able neither to read nor write than to be able to do nothing else.
No man is truly great who is great only in his lifetime. The test of greatness is the page of history.
The way to get on in the world is to be neither more nor less wise, neither better nor worse than your neighbours.
If we wish to know the force of human genius, we should read Shakespeare. If we wish to see the insignificance of human learning, we may study his commentators.
Very trifling circumstances do give great and daily annoyance, and as often prove too much for our philosophy and forbearance, as matters of the highest moment. ... The truth is, we pamper little griefs into great ones, and bear great ones as well as we can ... To great evils we submit; we resent little provocations.
The truly proud man knows neither superiors nor inferiors. The first he does not admit of: the last he does not concern himself about.
His hypothesis goes to this — to make the common run of his readers fancy they can do all that can be done by genius, and to make the man of genius believe he can only do what is to be done by mechanical rules and systematic industry. This is not a very feasible scheme; nor is Sir Joshua sufficiently clear and explicit in his reasoning in support of it.
The art of life is to know how to enjoy a little and to endure much.
The true barbarian is he who thinks every thing barbarous but his own tastes and prejudices.
Wit is, in fact, the eloquence of indifference.
We can scarcely hate any one that we know.
The thing is plain. All that men really understand is confined to a very small compass; to their daily affairs and experience; to what they have an opportunity to know and motives to study or practise. The rest is affectation and imposture.
The more we do, the more we can do; the more busy we are, the more leisure we have.
When a man is dead, they put money in his coffin, erect monuments to his memory, and celebrate the anniversary of his birthday in set speeches. Would they take any notice of him if he were living? No!