George Eliot, pen name of Mary Ann or Marian Evans
Eliot, pen name of Mary Ann or Marian Evans
Things are achieved when they are well begun. The perfect archer calls the deer his own while yet the shaft is whistling.
Time, like money, is measured by our needs.
To the old, sorrow is sorrow; to the young, it is despair.
Vanity is as ill at ease under indifference as tenderness is under a love which it cannot return.
There's folks 'ud stand on their heads and then say the fault was i' their boots.
Things don't happen because they're bad or good, else all eggs would be addled or none at all, and at the most it is but six to the dozen. There's good chances and bad chances, and nobody's luck is pulled only by one string.
Timid people always reek their peevishness on the gentle.
To the receptive soul the river of life pauseth not, nor is diminished.
Vengeance is just: justly we rid the earth of human fiends who carry hell for pattern in their souls. But in high vengeance there is noble scorn: it tortures not the torturer, nor gives iniquitous payment for iniquity. The great avenging angel does not crawl to kill the serpent with a mimic fang; he stands erect, with sword of keenest edge that slays like lightning.
There's never a garden in all the parish but what there's endless waste in it for want o' somebody as could use everything up. It's what I think to myself sometimes, as there need nobody run short o' victuals if the land was made the most on, and there was never a morsel but what could find it's way to a mouth.
This is a puzzling world, and Old Harry's got a finger in it.
'Tis a petty kind of fame at best, that comes of making violins; and saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go to purgatory none the less.
To think of the part one little woman can play in the life of a man, so that to renounce her may be a very good imitation of heroism, and to win her may be a discipline.
Veracity is a plant of Paradise, and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.
There's no disappointment in memory, and one's exaggerations are always on the good side.
This is life to come, — which martyred men have made more glorious for us who strive to follow. May I reach that purest heaven, — be to other souls the cup of strength in some great agony, enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, beget the smiles that have no cruelty, be the sweet presence of a good diffused, and in diffusion ever more intense! So shall I join the choir invisible whose music is the gladness of the world.
'Tis God gives skill, but not without men's hand: He could not make Antonio Stradivarius's violins without Antonio.
Trouble comes to us all in this life: we set our hearts on things which it isn't God's will for us to have, and then we go sorrowing.
Was she beautiful or not beautiful? And what was the secret of form or expression which gave the dynamic quality to her glance? Was the good or the evil genius dominant in those beams? Probably the evil; else why was the effect that of unrest rather than of undisturbed charm? Why was the wish to look again felt as coercion, and not as a longing in which the whole being consents?
There's no pleasure i' living if you're to be corked up forever, and only dribble your mind out by the sly, like a leaky barrel.
This is the bitterest of all, to wear the yoke of our own wrong-doing.
Tis what I love determines how I love.
Trouble's made us kin.
Watch your own speech, and notice how it is guided by your less conscious purposes.
There's no rule so wise but what it's a pity for somebody or other.