Paul Eldridge

Paul Eldridge
Paul Eldridgewas an American poet, novelist, short story writer and teacher. The son of Leon and Jeanette Eldridge, he was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on May 5, 1888. He later married a fellow writer, Sylvette de Lamar. He received his B.S. from Temple University in 1909, his M.A. from the University of Pennsylvania in 1911, and a doctorate from the University of Paris in 1913. He was a teacher of romance languages at the high school level in New York...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionEducator
CountryUnited States of America
jealousy passion love-is
Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.
discovery sole claims
There are those whose sole claim to profundity is the discovery of exceptions to the rules.
lying reading resurrection
Reading the epitaphs, our only salvation lies in resurrecting the dead and burying the living.
gold consumerism avarice
Avarice is fear sheathed in gold.
trials crime gallows
If we were brought to trial for the crimes we have committed against ourselves, few would escape the gallows.
trying shepherds logic
Reason is the shepherd trying to corral life's vast flock of wild irrationalities.
quotation-marks theft bigs
Authors hide their big thefts by putting small ones between quotation marks.
transformation silent footnotes
History is the transformation of tumultuous conquerors into silent footnotes.
men treats position
A man is most accurately judged by how he treats those who are not in a position either to retaliate or to reciprocate.
necklaces nooses
Many a necklace becomes a noose.
believe tin crowns
For having expressed an opinion, however far-fetched, we straightway become its slave, ready to die defending it, and even ready to believe it. And many continue to be martyrs to causes which have ceased to exist, their crowns rusting upon their heads as tin wreaths rust upon forgotten tombs.
wisdom long gathering
To have lived long does not necessarily imply the gathering of much wisdom and experience. One who has pedaled twenty-five thousand miles on a stationary bicycle has not circled the globe. He or she has only garnered weariness.
stuff aphorism endeavor
We endeavor to stuff the universe into the gullet of an aphorism.
objectivity ornaments saws
We hew and saw and plane facts to make them dovetail with our prejudices, so that they become mere ornaments with which to parade our objectivity.