Essential characteristics of a gentleman: The will to put himself in the place of others; the horror of forcing others into positions from which he would himself recoil; and the power to do what seems to him to be right without considering what others may say or think.
JOHN GALSWORTHYHumanism is the creed of those who believe that in the circle of enwrapping mystery, men’s fates are in their own hands.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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There are houses whose souls have passed into the limbo of Time, leaving their bodies in the limbo of London.
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Beginnings are always messy.
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Justice is a machine that, when some one has once given it the starting push, rolls on of itself.
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Dreaming is the poetry of Life, and we must be forgiven if we indulge in it a little.
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For the first time, as a family, they appeared to have an instinct of being in contact, with some strange and unsafe thing.
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Honesty of thought and speech and written word is a jewel.
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I drink the wine of aspiration and the drug of illusion. Thus I am never dull.
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If you do not think about the future, you cannot have one.
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We have known an emotion which is in every case the same in kind, if not in degree; an emotion precious and uplifting.
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Humanism is the creed of those who believe that in the circle of enwrapping mystery, men’s fates are in their own hands.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love! Beyond measure – beyond death – it nearly kills. But one wouldn’t have been without it.
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Only love makes fruitful the soul.
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The young man who, at the end of September, 1924, dismounted from a taxicab in South Square,
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The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
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Light-heartedness always made Soames suspicious – there was generally some reason for it.
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The French cook; we open tins.
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Wealth is a means to an end, not the end itself. As a synonym for health and happiness, it has had a fair trial and failed dismally.
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The Forsytes were resentful of something, not individually, but as a family; this resentment expressed itself in an added perfection of raiment, an exuberance of family cordiality, an exaggeration of family importance, and the sniff.
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Looking back on the long-stretched-out body of one’s work, it is interesting to mark the endless duel fought within a man between the emotional and critical sides of his nature.
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It was such a spring day as breathes into a man an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness, a longing that makes him stand motionless, looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out his arms to embrace he knows not what.
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For, what is grievous, dompting, grim, about our lives is that we are shut up within ourselves, with an itch to get outside ourselves.
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A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!
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And to be stolen away from ourselves by Art is a momentary relaxation from that itching, a minute’s profound, and as it were secret, enfranchisement.
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Danger so indispensable in bringing out the fundamental quality of any society, group, or individual was what the Forsytes scented; the premonition of danger put a burnish on their armour.
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Under its influence, wholly or in part, have blossomed weekends, strong nerves, strong legs, strong language… equality of sex, good digestion and professional occupation – in four words, the emanicipation of women.
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Religion was nearly dead because there was no longer real belief in future life; but something was struggling to take its place – service – social service – the ants creed, the bees creed.
JOHN GALSWORTHY