A Chesterton Calendar: Compiled from the writings of 'G.K.C.' both in verse and in prose. With a section apart for the moveable feasts.Chesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith)
Religion
A Chesterton Calendar: Compiled from the writings of 'G.K.C.' both in verse and in prose. With a section apart for the moveable feasts.
Chesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith)
Chesterton, G. K. (Gilbert Keith), 1874-1936 -- Calendars
Distribute the dignified people and the capable people and the highly
business-like people among all the situations which their ambition or
their innate corruption may demand, but keep close to your heart, keep
deep in your inner councils the absurd people; let the clever people
pretend to govern you, let the unimpeachable people pretend to advise
you, but let the fools alone influence you; let the laughable people
whose faults you see and understand be the only people who are really
inside your life, who really come near you or accompany you on your
lonely march towards the last impossibility.
_Introduction to 'David Copperfield.'_
MAY 16th
Philosophy is not the concern of those who pass through Divinity and
Greats, but of those who pass through birth and death. Nearly all the
more awful and abstruse statements can be put in words of one syllable,
from 'A child is born' to 'A soul is damned.' If the ordinary man may
not discuss existence, why should he be asked to conduct it?
'_George Bernard Shaw._'
MAY 17th
Keeping to one woman is a small price for so much as seeing one woman.
'_Orthodoxy._'
MAY 18th _GEORGE MEREDITH DIED_
The trees thinned and fell away from each other, and I came out into
deep grass and a road. I remember being surprised that the evening
was so far advanced; I had a fancy that this valley had a sunset all
to itself. I went along that road according to directions that had
been given me, and passed the gateway in a slight paling, beyond which
the wood changed only faintly to a garden. It was as if the curious
courtesy and fineness of that character I was to meet went out from
him upon the valley; for I felt on all these things the finger of
that quality which the old English called 'faerie'; it is the quality
which those can never understand who think of the past as merely
brutal; it is an ancient elegance such as there is in trees. I went
through the garden and saw an old man sitting by a table, looking
smallish in his big chair. He was already an invalid, and his hair and
beard were both white; not like snow, for snow is cold and heavy, but
like something feathery, or even fierce; rather they were white like
white thistledown. I came up quite close to him; he looked at me as
he put out his frail hand, and I saw of a sudden that his eyes were
startlingly young. He was the one great man of the old world whom I
have met who was not a mere statue over his own grave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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