The friendships of nations, built on common interests, cannot survive the mutability of those interests.
AGNES REPPLIERA real dog, beloved and therefore pampered by his mistress, is a lamentable spectacle. He suffers from fatty degeneration of his moral being.
More Agnes Repplier Quotes
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It has been wisely said that we cannot really love anybody at whom we never laugh.
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Wit is artificial; humor is natural. Wit is accidental; humor is inevitable. Wit is born of conscious effort; humor, of the allotted ironies of fate. Wit can be expressed only in language; humor can be developed sufficiently in situation.
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I am eighty years old. There seems to be nothing to add to this statement. I have reached the age of undecorated facts – facts that refuse to be softened by sentiment, or confused by nobility of phrase.
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Humor distorts nothing, and only false gods are laughed off their earthly pedestals.
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It is not begging but the beggar, who has forfeited favor with the elect.
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The sanguine assurance that men and nations can be legislated into goodness, that pressure from without is equivalent to a moral change within, needs a strong backing of inexperience.
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Edged tools are dangerous things to handle, and not infrequently do much hurt.
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Guests are the delight of leisure, and the solace of ennui.
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Economics and ethics have little in common.
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The audience is the controlling factor in the actor’s life. It is practically infallible, since there is no appeal from its verdict. It is a little like a supreme court composed of irresponsible minors.
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The delusions of the past seem fond and foolish. The delusions of the present seem subtle and sane.
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if a man be discreet enough to take to hard drinking in his youth, before his general emptiness is ascertained, his friends invariably credit him with a host of shining qualities which, we are given to understand, lie balked and frustrated by his one unfortunate weakness.
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No man pursues what he has at hand. No man recognizes the need of pursuit until that which he desires has escaped him.
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Those persons are happiest in this restless and mutable world who are in love with change, who delight in what is new simply because it differs from what is old; who rejoice in every innovation, and find a strange alert pleasure in all that is, and that has never been before.
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I am seventy years old, a gray age weighted with uncompromising biblical allusions. It ought to have a gray outlook, but it hasn’t, because a glint of dazzling sunshine is dancing merrily ahead of me.
AGNES REPPLIER