Those 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.
JOHN GALSWORTHYHe was afflicted by the thought that where Beauty was, nothing ever ran quite straight, which no doubt, was why so many people looked on it as immoral.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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Summer summer summer! The soundless footsteps on the grass!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love could never come to full fruition till it was destroyed.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
For, what is grievous, dompting, grim, about our lives is that we are shut up within ourselves, with an itch to get outside ourselves.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
I think the greatest thing in the world is to believe in people.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
First one, then the other, getting the upper hand, and too seldom fusing till the result has the mellowness of full achievement.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
And they who curb prejudice and seek honorably to know and speak the truth are the only builders of a better life.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Men are in fact, quite unable to control their own inventions; they at best develop adaptability to the new conditions those inventions create.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
A faith that for modern man is becoming the only possible faith.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
He might wish and wish and never get it – the beauty and the loving in the world!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
If you do not think about the future, you cannot have one.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY