Examining the world in order to find consolation is very much like looking carefully over the pages of a great book in order to find our own name . … Whether we find what we want or not, our preoccupation has hindered us from a true knowledge of the contents.
GEORGE ELIOTThere is a great deal of unmapped country within us.
More George Eliot Quotes
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An ass may bray a good while before he shakes the stars down.
GEORGE ELIOT -
A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one’s heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is surely better to pardon too much, than to condemn too much.
GEORGE ELIOT -
People who live at a distance are naturally less faulty than those immediately under our own eyes.
GEORGE ELIOT -
I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved; the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is never too late to become the person you always thought you could be.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view.
GEORGE ELIOT -
One must be poor to know the luxury of giving!
GEORGE ELIOT -
The right to rebellion is the right to seek a higher rule, and not to wander in mere lawlessness.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Those who trust us educate us.
GEORGE ELIOT -
The best travel is that which one can take by one’s own fireside. In memory or imagination.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Men outlive their love, but they don’t outlive the consequences of their recklessness.
GEORGE ELIOT -
What a wretched lot of old shrivelled creatures we shall be by-and-by. Never mind – the uglier we get in the eyes of others, the lovelier we shall be to each other; that has always been my firm faith about friendship.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Her little butterfly soul fluttered incessantly between memory and dubious expectation.
GEORGE ELIOT