In bed our yesterdays are too oppressive: if a man can only get up, though it be but to whistle or to smoke, he has a present which offers some resistance to the past-sensations which assert themselves against tyrannous memories.
GEORGE ELIOTCharacter 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.
More George Eliot Quotes
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It is always good to know, if only in passing, charming human beings. It refreshes one like flowers and woods and clear brooks.
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It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine–something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.
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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 -
Souls live on in perpetual echoes.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.
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Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.
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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 -
Veracity is a plant of paradise, and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.
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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.
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What are a handful of reasonable men against a crowd with stones in their hands?
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People are so ridiculous with their illusions, carrying their fool’s caps unawares, thinking their own lies opaque while everybody else’s are transparent, making themselves exceptions to everything, as if when all the world looked yellow under a lamp they alone are rosy.
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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.
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To have suffered much is like knowing many languages. Thou hast learned to understand all.
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If you deliver an opinion at all, it is mere stupidity not to do it with an air of conviction and well-founded knowledge. You make it your own in uttering it, and naturally get fond of it.
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We are led on, like little children, by a way we know not.
GEORGE ELIOT