[History is] a damn dim candle over a damn dark abyss.

The image casts historical knowledge as a weak, flickering light held over an immense void: the past is vast, largely unknowable, and resistant to full illumination. Calling history a “dim candle” suggests that even our best records and narratives offer only partial visibility—enough to orient us, but not enough to dispel the surrounding darkness of lost evidence, bias, and contingency. The profanity intensifies the skepticism, implying frustration with historians’ limited tools and with any pretension to certainty. At the same time, a candle is still a light: the line can be read as a grim defense of historical inquiry—meager but indispensable—against the abyss of ignorance.