Danny James

Tag: intellect

324: A dividing strength

I can salvage the idle hours, but O if I waver or am infirm get me at once to my books; my dividing strength, my secret door to that garden of alchemy where lavishing over Her voluble blooms, rather the reader grows. Nutritive to my temper and interests must there be a story on my person or at my bedside at any moment. It is the lamp that dims unnecessaries, a fire by which the intellect is warmed. Where in one simple afternoon I can delight freely in the childlike fervency of my Nature by the prospects of a first page, then settle into a tired wisdom, at the last.

285

There was a time, when I allowed feeling to guide my actions in life. And that really is all that I can say about that time.

171: Embark

Each day, for the seer offers new and infinite prospects for simplicity and harmony of living. Every walk with Nature, a finer, awe-striking detail previously unnoticed unfolds if you would at last forget yourself. To renovate oneself, daily and for all days; arrive by fain intend at higher sentiments before the body can navigate the night to meet the intellect, is the first noble act of any day.

157

A blank page and a freshly risen intellect, is like a clear stream, a fine breeze and a view of morning free and unhindered of anything at all; pure and bracing already, and space enough for what enter may.

153: Of sorrow we shall never sing

Struck thereupon a chance encounter with an awe never known so remarkable, the intellect dazed suddenly forgets its wealth, and allows to overtake the keen heart depleting on the occasion; building upon the moment, an entire Citadel of new ideals, and finds himself with little resource to un-imagine once begun the construct of his most vivid wishes. Though trace insight resists and eyes the oncoming, willing he hurries his mutiny overcome and perseveres after the things which are only everlasting until they are not.

122

Commonly after a spell abroad, I return to find the usual irritations of home have in my absence been polished to the plenitude of their quality, proving me thus a man of poor judgement. The greater share of dust is always laid over the intellect.

80: Farewell the Winter

Can such things be, and apprehend like a Winter Sun?

From its highest seat entirety is touched. Woe into dew thaws, the intellect has no answer at last. An eye cannot bear to blink. No face is unfelt of its warmth, no heart left uncheered beneath, nor does any farewell quite endear, as when it still glistening recedes behind tomorrow. The coming Spring is quite forgot.

62: Discoursing with intellectuals

Deliver us from the monotony of fools?

Perhaps sir, the intellectuals will bury themselves first.

Perhaps thy introspections, though striking may they be, are boorish and unuseful to common minds that into thy calculation saunter, and who benefit the better from deliberate action of the limbs, than rather prolonged deliberation. In truth, there are many brands of intelligence under the human scope; those whom thou wouldst consider dullards, that pay no invest to such stale and vain pontificating, might enjoy a maturating emotional intelligence beyond the reckoning of the super thinker who recites the technique of heartache that has not its awfulness stood, but sits dry in his library studying and forecasting the climate though rain still wets and suns still set, and tilts he at a draft condemning the impression for hurricane. It is not correctness nor helpful to censure anyone would not entertain thy admonishment, neither is it a defect in them if thy virtues do not their thoughts inhabit. The campaigns of fault-finders have always met with unconscious success, and closed at their own feet. Nay, deliver us indeed from the foolishness of wise men who surmise their own limit for world’s end. The many components of human aspects are, in the tiniest significance, so entire that we’ll never exhaust one of her capacities, but the ripening be assured, as all but youth well know, is ever ongoing – conceivably the perfect human monotony; for along the aeon of this human diversity, there is no tedium so diminishing and diminishment starved, save the concepts of ‘each other,’ and ‘better than.’ It does not befall a single star to illumine the midnight shade, but by every star, bright and humble are enchanting evenings made.

58

For all the worlds wit would I not exchange one opportunity for startlement. It is dimensions the vaster intellect; a finer field.