Henri Frederic Amiel
Henri Frederic Amiel
Henri Frédéric Amielwas a Swiss moral philosopher, poet, and critic...
NationalitySwiss
ProfessionPhilosopher
Date of Birth27 September 1821
CountrySwitzerland
Henri Frederic Amiel quotes about
sadness joy pens
Sadness takes up the pen more readily than joy.
feelings soul mind
There is no repose for the mind except in the absolute; for feeling, except in the infinite; for the soul, except in the divine.
littles causes little-things
What we call little things are merely the causes of great things.
chaos
Life alone can rekindle life.
order needs great-person
Order is a great person's need and their true well being.
passion fire feelings
The fire which enlightens is the same fire which consumes.
too-much lost distrust
He who is too much afraid of being duped has lost the power of being magnanimous.
soul flesh triumph
Heroism is the brilliant triumph of the soul over the flesh - over fear...Heroism is the dazzling and glorious concentration of courage.
rain destiny tree
How true it is that our destinies are decided by nothings and that a small imprudence helped by some insignificant accident, as an acorn is fertilized by a drop of rain, may raise the trees on which perhaps we and others shall be crucified.
true-love heart love-is
True love is that which ennobles the personality, fortifies the heart, and sanctifies the existence.
persistence self able
Obstinacy is will asserting itself without being able to justify itself. It is persistence without a reasonable motive. It is the tenacity of self-love substituted for that of reason and conscience.
sympathy criticism firsts
Sympathy is the first condition of criticism.
ignorance passion class
If ignorance and passion are the foes of popular morality, it must be confessed that moral indifference is the malady of the cultivated classes.
thoughtful night sea
Melancholy is at the bottom of everything, just as at the end of all rivers is the sea. Can it be otherwise in a world where nothing lasts, where all that we have loved or shall love must die? Is death, then, the secret of life? The gloom of an eternal mourning enwraps, more or less closely, every serious and thoughtful soul, as night enwraps the universe.