Impatient people, according to Bacon, are like the bees, and kill themselves in stinging others.
GEORGE ELIOTImpatient people, according to Bacon, are like the bees, and kill themselves in stinging others.
GEORGE ELIOTOne must be poor to know the luxury of giving!
GEORGE ELIOTIf we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence.
GEORGE ELIOTThere is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
GEORGE ELIOTHold up your head! You were not made for failure, you were made for victory. Go forward with a joyful confidence.
GEORGE ELIOTJoy and sorrow are both my perpetual companions, but the joy is called Past and the sorrow Present.
GEORGE ELIOTI love not to be choked with other men’s thoughts.
GEORGE ELIOTShe was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.
GEORGE ELIOTIt 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 ELIOTPeople who live at a distance are naturally less faulty than those immediately under our own eyes.
GEORGE ELIOTAppearances have very little to do with happiness.
GEORGE ELIOTThe strongest principle of growth lies in the human choice.
GEORGE ELIOTOur deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.
GEORGE ELIOTThe golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.
GEORGE ELIOTDeath is the king of this world: ‘Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet.
GEORGE ELIOTNo story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.
GEORGE ELIOT