Technology, while adding daily to our physical ease, throws dailyanother loop of fine wire around our souls. It contributes hugely to our mobility, which we must not confuse with freedom. The extensions of our senses, which we find so fascinating, are not adding to the discrimination of our minds, since we need increasingly to take the reading of a needle on a dial to discover whether we think something isgood or bad, or right or wrong.1955 'My Faith in Democratic Capitalism', in Fortune, Oct.
True as the needle to the pole,Or as the dial to the sun.Song, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919). Compare: "True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin’d upon", Samuel Butler, Hudibras, Part iii, Canto ii, line 175.
True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin'd upon.Canto II, line 175.
Pray, pray, thou who also weepest, And the drops will slacken so; Weep, weep and the watch thou keepest, With a quicker count will go. Think, the shadow on the dial For the nature most undone, Marks the passing of the trial, Proves the presence of the sun.Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Fourfold Aspect.
True as the needle to the pole, Or as the dial to the sun.Barton Booth, Song.
True as the dial to the sun, Although it be not shin'd upon.Samuel Butler, Hudibras, Part III (1678), Canto II, line 175.
"Horas non numero nisi serenas." There stands in the garden of old St. Mark A sun dial quaint and gray. It takes no heed of the hours which in dark Pass o'er it day by day. It has stood for ages amid the flowers In that land of sky and song. "I number none but the cloudless hours," Its motto the live day long.William C. Doane, Of a Sun Dial in Venice.
Thou breathing dial! since thy day began The present hour was ever mark'd with shade.Landor, Miscellaneous Poems (1846), Volume VIII, p. 92.
If o'er the dial glides a shade, redeem The time for lo! it passes like a dream; But if 'tis all a blank, then mark the loss Of hours unblest by shadows from the cross.On a Sun Dial in a churchyard at Shenstone, England.
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts not breaths; // In feelings, not in figures on a dial. // We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives // Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.This is actually from the poem "We live in deeds..." by Philip James Bailey. This explains the strange pattern of capitalization.
How absurd it must seem for an immortal soul to be destined for Heaven or Hell, and yet be sitting in a kitchen, as a maid, or to see oneself objectified as a mechanic! how falsely the usual sunrise waked us, the clock dial, the city street the job! How wrongfully people find themselves in these systems — our time isn't there, our space isn't there, our space isn't even here... the whole social story of waking, and certainly the day of the mechanic, is false.ernst bloch