One can say everything best over a meal.
I always think the flowers can see us, and know what we are thinking about.
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
And, of course men know best about everything, except what women know better.
Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
If Art does not enlarge men's sympathies, it does nothing morally.
Nice distinctions are troublesome. It is so much easier to say that a thing is black, than to discriminate the particular shade of brown, blue, or green, to which it really belongs. It is so much easier to make up your mind that your neighbour is good for nothing, than to enter into all the circumstances that would oblige you to modify that opinion.
In high vengeance there is noble scorn.
People are so ridiculous with their illusions, carrying their fool's caps unawares, thinking their own lies opaque while everybody else's are transparent, making themselves exceptions to everything, as if when all the world looked yellow under a lamp they alone are rosy.
Decide on what you think is right, and stick to it.
I like trying to get pregnant. I'm not so sure about childbirth.
I think cheerfulness is a fortune in itself.
It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.
Ignorance is not so damnable as humbug, but when it prescribes pills it may happen to do more harm.
Net the large fish and you are sure to have the small fry.
It's easy finding reasons why other folks should be patient.
Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down.
I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved; the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.
The light can be a curtain as well as the darkness.
Say "I love you" to those you love. The eternal silence is long enough to be silent in, and that awaits us all.
It is pleasant to have a kind word now and then when one is not near enough to have a kind glance or a hearty shake by the hand.
When our life is a continuous trial, the moments of respite seem only to substitute the heaviness of dread for the heaviness of actual suffering; the curtain of cloud seems parted an instant only that we may measure all its horror as it hangs low, black, and imminent, in contrast with the transient brightness; the waterdrops that visit the parched lips in the desert bear with them only the keen imagination of thirst.
A suppressed resolve will betray itself in the eyes.
but very little achievement is required in order to pity another man's shortcomings.
And Dorothea..she had no dreams of being praised above other women. Feeling that there was always something better which she might have done if she had only been better and known better, her full nature spent itself in deeds which left no great name on the earth, but the effect of her being on those around her was incalculable. For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts and on all those Dorotheas who life faithfully their hidden lives and rest in unvisited tombs. Middlemarch
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