Memory heaps dead leaves on corpse-like deeds, from under which they do but vaguely offend the sense.
JOHN GALSWORTHYThose are the moments that I think are precious to a dog-when, with his adoring soul coming through his eyes, he feels that you are really thinking of him.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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It is the continual, unconscious replacement, however fleeting, of oneself by another; the real cement of human life; the everlasting refreshment and renewal.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
One can even tell the nature of one’s readers, by their preference for the work which reveals more of this side than of that.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Headlines twice the size of the events.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Life calls the tune, we dance.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Slang is vigorous and apt. Probably most of our vital words were once slang.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love could never come to full fruition till it was destroyed.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love has no age, no limit; and no death.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
We have to love because we love loving.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
To dislike the clothes and voices of other men – all this was precious to her beyond everything.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The bicycle… has been responsible for more movement in manners and morals than anything since Charles the Second.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The sense of form that both had in such high degree prevented much demonstration; but to be with him, do things for him, to admire, and credit him with perfection; and, since she could not exactly wear the same clothes or speak in the same clipped, quiet, decisive voice.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY