I think - I think - I think how little they think what lies so near them.
The kingdom of music is not the kingdom of this world; it will accept those whom breeding and intellect and culture have alike rejected.
The advance of regret can be so gradual that it is impossible to say "yesterday I was happy, today I am not.
The historian must have some conception of how men who are not historians behave. Otherwise he will move in a world of the dead. He can only gain that conception through personal experience, and he can only use his personal experiences when he is a genius.
It's miles worse for you than that; I'm in love with your gamekeeper.
I seem fated to pass through the world without colliding with it or moving it — and I'm sure I can't tell you whether the fate's good or evil. I don't die — I don't fall in love. And if other people die or fall in love they always do it when I'm just not there.
I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort.
I'd far rather leave a thought behind me than a child. Other people can have children.
To trust people is a luxury in which only the wealthy can indulge; the poor cannot afford it.
Let us think of people as starting life with an experience they forget and ending it with one which they anticipate but cannot understand.
George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her, as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face, he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her. Before she could speak, almost before she could feel, a voice called 'Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!' The silence of life had been broken by Miss Bartlett, who stood brown against the view.
Beauty ought to look a little surprised: it is the emotion that best suits her face. The beauty who does not look surprised, who accepts her position as her due - she reminds us too much of a prima donna.
Do you remember Italy?
I only wish the poets would say this too: love is of the body; not the body, but of the the body. Ah! the misery that would be saved if we confessed that! Ah! for a little directness to liberate the soul!
Man has to pick up the use of his functions as he goes along- especially the function of Love.
I never could get on with representative individuals but people who existed on their own account and with whom it might therefore be possible to be friends.
When we were only acquaintances, you let me be myself, but now you're always protecting me... I won't be protected. I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right. To shield me is an insult. Can't I be trusted to face the truth but I must get it second-hand through you? A woman's place!
Why can't we be friends now?" said the other, holding him affectionately. "It's what I want. It's what you want." But the horses didn't want it — they swerved apart: the earth didn't want it, sending up rocks through which riders must pass single file; the temple, the tank, the jail, the palace, the birds, the carrion, the Guest House, that came into view as they emerged from the gap and saw Mau beneath: they didn't want it, they said in their hundred voices "No, not yet," and the sky said "No, not there.
But this time I'm not to blame; I want you to believe that. I simply slipped into those violets. No, I want to be really truthful. I am a little to blame. The sky, you know, was gold, and the ground all blue, and for a moment he looked like some one in a book.
As her time in Florence drew to a close she was only at ease amongst those to whom she felt indifferent.
The crime of suicide lies rather in its disregard for the feelings of those whom we leave behind.
One doesn't come to Italy for niceness," was the retort; "one comes for life. Buon giorno! Buon giorno!
If God could tell the story of the Universe, the Universe would become fictitious.
She only felt that the candle would burn better, the packing go easier, the world be happier, if she could give and receive some human love.
There's enough sorrow in the world, isn't there, without trying to invent it.
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