C
Charlemagne_II
Guest
Here’s mine:
“Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions.”
“Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions.”
If it is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.
QUOTE]
That’s a quote that stayed in my mind too.
I know it’s wicked of me but I’ve always remembered an exchange between him and his intellectual opponent Bernard Shaw.
Bernard Shaw was awfully thin.
Chesterton said in the spirit of friendly rivalry, something like
"You look as if there is a famine in England.
Shaw retorted, in reference to Chesterton’s rotund figure,
“And you look as if you caused it”
That’s a quote that stayed in my mind too.If it is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.
That has caused me to pick up several volunteer jobs in the Church; simply because they needed to be done and no one else stepped forward.
I think you mean “Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried.” Somewhat different in meaning.I think this is correct, if not, it is a close paraphrase:
“It’s not that Christianity doesn’t work, it’s just that it hasn’t been tried yet.”
I disagree, in that there are, I think, practitioners. But they do not call themselves, save perhaps a few, “Christians.” But generally speaking, despite apologetics and dogma, I think it is true.
Another thin/heavy exchange: Shaw said to Chesterton, “If I were as heavy as you, I’d hang myself.” Chesterton replied, “If I ever have a mind to do so, I’ll use you as the rope.”That’s a quote that stayed in my mind too.
I know it’s wicked of me but I’ve always remembered an exchange between him and his intellectual opponent George Bernard Shaw.
Bernard Shaw was awfully thin.
Chesterton said in the spirit of friendly rivalry, something like
"You look as if there is a famine in England.
Shaw retorted, in reference to Chesterton’s rotund figure,
“And you look as if you caused it”
Wel done! Faithful poet!Trishie’s comment on Shaw and Chesterton reminded me of a verse I once wrote.
Dining Gilbert Chesterton
spilled sauce and ale his big vest on.
He carved his Kant,
mashed his Marx
and buttered his Bertrand Russell.
Then he shouted down the corridor
for some oyster and some mussel.
But last of all, with sweating brow
he opened wide his jaw,
and for dessert he gulped a slice
of good old Bernard Shaw.