Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact.
GEORGE ELIOTIn travelling I shape myself betimes to idleness And take fools’ pleasure
More George Eliot Quotes
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Your trouble’s easy borne when everybody gives it a lift for you.
GEORGE ELIOT -
The thing we look forward to often comes to pass, but never precisely in the way we have imagined to ourselves.
GEORGE ELIOT -
There is no killing the suspicion that deceit has once begotten.
GEORGE ELIOT -
There 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 ELIOT -
If the past is not to bind us, where can duty lie? We should have no law but the inclination of the moment.
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 -
When death, the great reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.
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 -
Life is too precious to be spent in this weaving and unweaving of false impressions, and it is better to live quietly under some degree of misrepresentation than to attempt to remove it by the uncertain process of letter-writing.
GEORGE ELIOT -
All meanings, we know, depend on the key of interpretation.
GEORGE ELIOT -
Blessed is the influence of one true, loving human soul on another.
GEORGE ELIOT -
No 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 -
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 -
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 surely better to pardon too much, than to condemn too much.
GEORGE ELIOT