The Sixth Sense: Its Cultivation and Use

الغلاف الأمامي
b. W. Huebsch., 1919 - 93 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 56 - My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive.
الصفحة 76 - In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate : I am the captain of my soul.
الصفحة 50 - If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: «Hold on!
الصفحة 99 - The trivial round, the common task, Will furnish all we ought to ask; Room to deny ourselves; a road To bring us daily nearer God.
الصفحة 57 - I have steadily endeavoured to keep my mind free so as to give up any hypothesis, however much beloved (and I cannot resist forming one on every subject), as soon as facts are shown to be opposed to it.
الصفحة 57 - I suppose, have thus suffered; and if I had to live my life again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week; for perhaps the parts of my brain now atrophied would thus have been kept active through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character, by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature.
الصفحة 82 - cause heavens face is dim, His needs a cloud : Was ever froward wind That could be so unkind? Or wave so proud? The wind had need be angry, and the water black, That to the mighty Neptune's self dare threaten wrack. There is no storme but this Of your owne Cowardise That braves you out; You are the storme that mocks Your selves; you are the rocks Of your owne doubt: Besides this feare of danger, ther's no danger here; And he that here feares danger, does deserve his feare.
الصفحة 27 - Mystical Element of Religion, vol. ii, p. 114. of all progress and a reversion to chaos. " The progress of thought consists in gradually separating the series of objective and universally valid, from that of subjective experiences. In the measure that their confusion prevails, man is, to all intents and purposes, mad; and it is this note of insanity that characterizes medicine and religion in their early stages. Dreams and reality are mixed up; subjective connections are objectified.
الصفحة 24 - Now the natural man receiveth not the things of the spirit of God : For they are foolishness unto him ; and he cannot know them, because they are spiritually judged.
الصفحة 88 - ... a grasp Such as they use on earth, but all around Over the surface of my subtle being, As though I were a sphere, and capable To be accosted thus, a uniform And gentle pressure tells me I am not Self-moving, but borne forward on my way. And hark! I hear a singing; yet in sooth I cannot of that music rightly say Whether I hear, or touch, or taste the tones.

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