There is a great deal of unmapped country within us.
GEORGE ELIOTIt 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.
More George Eliot Quotes
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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 -
Adventure is not outside man; it is within.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Human feeling is like the mighty rivers that bless the earth: it does not wait for beauty – it flows with resistless force and brings beauty with it.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Souls live on in perpetual echoes.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Those who trust us educate us.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Genius … is necessarily intolerant of fetters.
GEORGE ELIOT -
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined – to strengthen each other – to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
GEORGE ELIOT -
I carry my unwritten poems in cipher on my face!
GEORGE ELIOT -
Much of our waking experience is but a dream in the daylight.
GEORGE ELIOT -
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 ELIOT -
I don’t want the world to give me anything for my books except money enough to save me from the temptation to write only for money.
GEORGE ELIOT -
One must be poor to know the luxury of giving!
GEORGE ELIOT -
A good horse makes short miles.
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 -
Enveloped in a common mist, we seem to walk in clearness ourselves, and behold only the mist that enshrouds others.
GEORGE ELIOT






