Bethink you, have there not been days, aye and months, in your own life when you would have rejoiced to sleep in mindlessness? And should we not, per… - H. Rider Haggard

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Bethink you, have there not been days, aye and months, in your own life when you would have rejoiced to sleep in mindlessness? And should we not, perchance, be happier, all of us, if like the beasts we could not remember, foreknow and understand? Oh! men talk of Heaven, but believe me, the real Heaven is one of dreamless sleep, since life and wakefulness, however high their scale and on whatever star, mean struggle, which being so oft mistaken, must breed sorrow—or remorse that spoils all.

English
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About H. Rider Haggard

Sir Henry Rider Haggard (22 June 1856 – 14 May 1925), born in Bradenham, Norfolk, England, was a Victorian writer of adventure novels set in exotic locations such as southern Africa, Central Asia, Egypt, Iceland and Mexico.

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Henry Rider Haggard Sir Henry Rider Haggard H. R. Haggard H Rider Haggard
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Additional quotes by H. Rider Haggard

The seconds seemed minutes, the minutes seemed hours, and the hours seemed years. . . Where now were the gods I had worshipped and—was there any god? Or was man but a self-deceiver who created gods instead of the gods creating him, because he did not love to think of an eternal blackness in which he would soon be swallowed up and lost? Well, at least that would mean sleep, and sleep is better than torment of mind or body.

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