O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind while just the art of being kind is all the sad world needs.
The world is in your hands, now use it.
What nature delivers to us is never stale. Because what nature creates has eternity in it.
The here-and-now is no mere filling of time, but a filling of time with God.
The world rolls round forever like a mill; it grinds out death and life and good and ill; it has no purpose, heart or mind or will.
We all get weary sometimes, and we tend to think that life is what makes us weary.
The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.
Traditional matter must be glorified, since it would be easier to listen to the re-creation of familiar stories than to quite new and unexpected things; the listeners, we must remember, needed poetry chiefly as the re-creation of tired hours.
I have always been interested in garbage: What it says about us. What in there embarrasses us, and what we can't bear to part with. Where it goes and how much of it there is. How it endures. What it might be like to work with it every day.
The world, universe, God, whatever you call it, has so much more in store if you just sit back and relax and do what's right in front of you.