obscurity

It always seems as though the definition of love will remain debatable by an opinionated world.

Find your hidden talents, your hidden potentials, your hidden purposes and convert them into a better business for the benefit of the entire world.

Everyone has a kind of limitation respectively. Leaders don__ allow their own to obscure them in a small corner.

For instance? Well, for instance, what it means to be a man. In a city. In a century. In transition. In a mass. Transformed by science. Under organized power. Subject to tremendous controls. In a condition caused by mechanization. After the late failure of radical hopes. In a society that was no community and devalued the person. Owing to the multiplied power of numbers which made the self negligible. Which spent military billions against foreign enemies but would not pay for order at home. Which permitted savagery and barbarism in its own great cities. At the same time, the pressure of human millions who have discovered what concerted efforts and thoughts can do. As megatons of water shape organisms on the ocean floor. As tides polish stones. As winds hollow cliffs. The beautiful supermachinery opening a new life for innumerable mankind. Would you deny them the right to exist? Would you ask them to labor and go hungry while you yourself enjoyed old-fashioned Values? You__ou yourself are a child of this mass and a brother to all the rest. or else an ingrate, dilettante, idiot. There, Herzog, thought Herzog, since you ask for the instance, is the way it runs.

You can't reign in obscurity you can't shine in your comfort zone.

Twofold misjudgement. - The misfortune suffered by clear-minded and easily understood writers is that they are taken for shallow and thus little effort is expended on reading them: and the good fortune that attends the obscure is that the reader toils at them and ascribes to them the pleasure he has in fact gained from his own zeal.

I spent a long time writing in obscurity. You'll spend a long time writing in obscurity.

Thus let me live unseen unknown Thus unlamented let me die Steal from the world and not a stone Tell where I lie.

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

How many a rustic Milton has passed by Stifling the speechless longings of his heart In unremitting drudgery and care! How many a vulgar Cato has compelled His energies no longer tameless then To mold a pin or fabricate a nail!

I give the fight up let there be an end A privacy an obscure nook for me I want to be forgotten even by God.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting by the world forgot.

I would rather be attacked than unnoticed. For the worst thing you can do to an author is to be silent as to his works.

Notoriety wasn't as good as fame, but was heaps better than obscurity.

While fame impedes and constricts, obscurity wraps about a man like a mist; obscurity is dark, ample, and free; obscurity lets the mind take its way unimpeded. Over the obscure man is poured the merciful suffusion of darkness. None knows where he goes or comes. He may seek the truth and speak it; he alone is free; he alone is truthful, he alone is at peace.

This poem has been called obscure. I refuse to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence, or suffering. But being a poem, not a lifetime, it is more compressed.

Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!

She swallowed the ridicule & washed it down with criticism, It was far sweeter than the taste of obscurity.