Coleridge
is the supreme tragedy of indiscipline.
Never did so great a mind produce so little. “Coleridge had every poetic gift but one –
the gift of sustained and concentrated effort.”
The books were never composed outside of Coleridge’s mind, because he
would not face the discipline of sitting down to write them out. No one ever reached any eminence, and no one
having reached it ever maintained it, without discipline. – Gordon MacDonald, Ordering Your Private World, on Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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