Discussion without asperity, sympathy with fusion, gayety unracked by too abundant jests, mental ease in approaching one another; these are the things which give a pleasant smoothness to the rough edge of life.
AGNES REPPLIERThe soul begins to travel when the child begins to think.
More Agnes Repplier Quotes
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to be civilized is to be incapable of giving unnecessary offense, it is to have some quality of consideration for all who cross our path.
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People who cannot recognize a palpable absurdity are very much in the way of civilization.
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A vast deal of ingenuity is wasted every year in evoking the undesirable, in the careful construction of objects which burden life. Frankenstein was a large rather than an isolated example.
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Men who believe that, through some exceptional grace or good fortune, they have found God, feel little need of culture.
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Our belief in education is unbounded, our reverence for it is unfaltering, our loyalty to it is unshaken by reverses. Our passionate desire, not so much to acquire it as to bestow it, is the most animated of American traits.
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English civilization rests largely upon tea and cricket, with mighty spurts of enjoyment on Derby Day, and at Newmarket.
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The universality of a custom is pledge of its worth.
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Erudition, like a bloodhound, is a charming thing when held firmly in leash, but it is not so attractive when turned loose upon a defenseless and unerudite public.
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Life is so full of miseries, minor and major; they press so close upon us at every step of the way, that it is hardly worthwhile to call one another’s attention to their presence.
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It is difficult to admonish Frenchmen. Their habit of mind is unfavorable to preachment.
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Letters form a by-path of literature, a charming, but occasional, retreat for people of cultivated leisure.
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the tea-hour is the hour of peace … strife is lost in the hissing of the kettle – a tranquilizing sound, second only to the purring of a cat.
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For indeed all that we think so new to-day has been acted over and over again, a shifting comedy, by the women of every century.
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Art… does not take kindly to facts, is helpless to grapple with theories, and is killed outright by a sermon.
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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