George Eliot, pen name of Mary Ann or Marian Evans

Eliot, pen name of Mary Ann or Marian Evans

English Novelist

Author Quotes

When you've been used to doing things, and they've been taken away from you, it's as if your hands had been cut off, and you felt the fingers as are of no use to you.

Wise books for half the truths they hold are honored tombs.

You can't conceive what a great fellow I'm going to be. The seed of immortality has sprouted within me.

You're never too old to be what you might have been.

Where lies the power, there let the blame lie too. Nay, power is relative; you cannot fright the coming pest with border fortresses, Or catch your carp with subtle argument. All force is twain in one: cause is not cause unless effect be there; and action's self Must needs contain a passive. So command Exists but with obedience.

Wit is a form of force that leaves the limbs at rest.

You have such strong words at command, that they make the smallest argument seem formidable.

Where women love each other, men learn to smother their mutual dislike.

With a single drop of ink for a mirror, the Egyptian sorcerer undertakes to reveal to any chance comer far-reaching visions of the past. This is what I undertake to do for you, reader.

You know I have duties??we both have duties??before which feeling must be sacrificed.

Where you have friends you should not go to inns.

With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and the tinglings of a merited shame.

You know nothing about Hope, that immortal, delicious maiden forever courted forever propitious, whom fools have called deceitful, as if it were Hope that carried the cup of disappointment, whereas it is her deadly enemy, Certainty, whom she only escapes by transformation.

Whether happiness may come or not, one should try and prepare one's self to do without it.

With thy coming melody was come. This was thy lot, to feel, create, bestow, and that immeasurable life to know from which the fleshly self falls shriveled, dead, a seed primeval that has forests bred.

You love the roses--so do I. I wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valleys would be pink and white, and soft to tread on. They would fall as light as feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be like sleeping and yet waking, all at once. Over the sea, Queen, where we soon shall go, will it rain roses?

While the arm is strong to strike and heave, let soul and arm give shape that will abide.

Women know no perfect love: loving the strong, they can forsake the strong; man clings because the being whom he loves is weak and needs him.

You may try but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's form of genius in you, and to suffer the slavery of being a girl.

While the heart beats, bruise it--it is your only opportunity.

Women should be protected from anyone's exercise of unrighteous power . . . but then, so should every other living creature.

You must be sure of two things: you must love your work, and not be always looking over the edge of it, wanting your play to begin. And the other is, you must not be ashamed of your work, and think it would be more honorable to you to be doing something else. You must have a pride in your own work and in learning to do it well, and not be always saying, There's this and there's that—if I had this or that to do, I might make something of it. No matter what a man is—I wouldn't give two-pence for him— here Caleb's mouth looked bitter, and he snapped his fingers— whether he was the prime minister or the rick-thatcher, if he didn't do well what he undertook to do.

Who can know how much of his most inward life is made up of the thoughts he believes other men to have about him, until that fabric of opinion is threatened with ruin?

Women who are content with light and easily broken ties do not act as I have done. They obtain what they desire and are still invited to dinner.

You must learn to deal with the odd and even in life, as well as in figures.

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Eliot, pen name of Mary Ann or Marian Evans
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English Novelist