The important work of moving the world forward does not wait to be done by perfect men.
GEORGE ELIOTWe 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.
More George Eliot Quotes
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Souls live on in perpetual echoes.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Animals are such agreeable friends – they ask no questions; they pass no criticisms.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Character is not cut in marble – it is not something solid and unalterable. It is something living and changing, and may become diseased as our bodies do.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.
GEORGE ELIOT -
There is hardly any contact more depressing to a young ardent creature than that of a mind in which years full of knowledge seem to have issued in a blank absence of interest or sympathy.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Men outlive their love, but they don’t outlive the consequences of their recklessness.
GEORGE ELIOT -
The troublesome ones in a family are usually either the wits or the idiots.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is hard to believe long together that anything is “worth while,” unless there is some eye to kindle in common with our own, some brief word uttered now and then to imply that what is infinitely precious to us is precious alike to another mind.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Trouble’s made us kin.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is as useless to fight against the interpretations of ignorance as to whip the fog.
GEORGE ELIOT -
I think I dislike what I don’t like more than I like what I like.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Death 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 ELIOT -
… it is one thing to like defiance, and another thing to like its consequences.
GEORGE ELIOT -
It is always good to know, if only in passing, charming human beings. It refreshes one like flowers and woods and clear brooks.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Rome – the city of visible history, where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar.
GEORGE ELIOT