Human feeling is like the mighty rivers that bless the earth: it does not wait for beauty – it flows with resistless force and brings beauty with it.
GEORGE ELIOTA good horse makes short miles.
More George Eliot Quotes
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Genius … is necessarily intolerant of fetters.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is never too late to become the person you always thought you could be.
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What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined – to strengthen each other – to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
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One can say everything best over a meal.
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One has to spend many years in learning how to be happy.
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“Heaven help us,” said the old religion; the new one, from its very lack of that faith, will teach us all the more to help one another.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is always good to know, if only in passing, charming human beings. It refreshes one like flowers and woods and clear brooks.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Conscientious people are apt to see their duty in that which is the most painful course.
GEORGE ELIOT -
I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved. I am not sure that you are of the same mind. But the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave. This is the world of light and speech, and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.
GEORGE ELIOT -
… it is one thing to like defiance, and another thing to like its consequences.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is hard to believe long together that anything is “worth while,” unless there is some eye to kindle in common with our own, some brief word uttered now and then to imply that what is infinitely precious to us is precious alike to another mind.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
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Enveloped in a common mist, we seem to walk in clearness ourselves, and behold only the mist that enshrouds others.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Religious ideas have the fate of melodies, which, once set afloat in the world, are taken up by all sorts of instruments, some of them woefully coarse, feeble, or out of tune, until people are in danger of crying out that the melody itself is detestable.
GEORGE ELIOT






