Marriage must be a relation either of sympathy or of conquest.
GEORGE ELIOTThe thing we look forward to often comes to pass, but never precisely in the way we have imagined to ourselves.
More George Eliot Quotes
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I love not to be choked with other men’s thoughts.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Much of our waking experience is but a dream in the daylight.
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 -
What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
GEORGE ELIOT -
It’s no use filling your pocket with money if you have got a hole in the corner.
GEORGE ELIOT -
The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Jews are not fit for Heaven, but on earth they are most useful.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles.
GEORGE ELIOT -
The best travel is that which one can take by one’s own fireside. In memory or imagination.
GEORGE ELIOT -
In bed our yesterdays are too oppressive: if a man can only get up, though it be but to whistle or to smoke, he has a present which offers some resistance to the past-sensations which assert themselves against tyrannous memories.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.
GEORGE ELIOT -
What are a handful of reasonable men against a crowd with stones in their hands?
GEORGE ELIOT -
We have had an unspeakably delightful journey, one of those journeys which seem to divide one’s life in two, by the new ideas they suggest and the new views of interest they open.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Veracity is a plant of paradise, and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Quarrel? Nonsense; we have not quarreled. If one is not to get into a rage sometimes, what is the good of being friends?
GEORGE ELIOT