Quotes from Amos Bronson Alcott

The true teacher defends his pupils against his own personal influence. He inspires self-distrust. He guides their eyes from himself to the spirit that quickens him. He will have no disciple.

That is a good book which is opened with expectation and closed with profit.

Many can argue; not many converse

Fine manners are the mantle of fair minds.

A happy childhood is the pledge of a ripe manhood.

Love is the key to felicity, nor is there a heaven to any who love not. We enter Paradise through its gates only.

A state, a community, caring first for all its children, providing amply for their spiritual as for their temporal well-being, has organized the primitive Eden.

Hold fast, therefore, O circular philosopher, to thy centre, and drive the globe along its orbit by the momentum of thy thought.

Time is the best critic.

Children are illuminated text-books, breviaries of doctrine, living bodies of divinity, open always and inviting their elders to peruse the characters inscribed on the lovely leaves.

None can teach admirably if not loving his task.

The books that charmed us in youth recall the delight ever afterwards; we are hardly persuaded there are any like them, any deserving our equal affections.

Creeds, like other goods, pass by inheritance to descendants.

Every noble life becomes a revelation of the spirit which the love and joy of mankind cannot let perish from remembrance.

Time ripens the substance of a life as the seasons mellow and perfect its fruits. The best apples fall latest and keep longest.

Genius has oftenest been the pariah of his time, the unhoused god whom none cared for, unnamed till they whom he first promoted, enriched and honored, found it honorable to own their benefactor.

A check on itself, evil subserves the economies of good, as it were a condiment to give relish to good.

A chaste generation would restore Paradise.

If the ancients left us ideas, to our credit be it spoken that we moderns are building houses for them -- structures which neither Plato nor Archimedes had dreamed possible.

Cities with all their advantages have something hostile to liberal learning, the seductions are so subtle and accost the senses so openly on all sides.

Evil is retributive: every trespass slips fetters on the will, holds the soul in durance till contrition and repentance restore it to liberty.

Without a mythology, faith is impersonal and heartless.

A candid spirit is mightier than the most persistent dogmatism.

Whatsoever stirs the stagnant currents, setting these flowing in wholesome directions, promotes brisk spirits and productive thinking. The less of routine, the more of life.