There are moments when Nature reveals the passion hidden beneath the careless calm of her ordinary moods-violent spring flashing white on almond-blossom through the purple clouds.
JOHN GALSWORTHYThe value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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Beauty means this to one person, perhaps, and that to the other. And yet when any one of us has seen or heard or read that which to us is beautiful.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The French cook; we open tins.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
To dislike the clothes and voices of other men – all this was precious to her beyond everything.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
It`s always worth while before you do anything to consider whether it`s going to hurt another person more than is absolutely necessary.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love of beauty is really only the sex instinct, which nothing but complete union satisfies.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The law is what it is-a majestic edifice, sheltering all of us, each stone of which rests on another.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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 -
Justice is a machine that, when some one has once given it the starting push, rolls on of itself.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Once admit that we have the right to inflict unnecessary suffering and you destroy the very basis of human society.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
I think the greatest thing in the world is to believe in people.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Such was not quite the condition of Timothy’s on the Bayswater Road, for Timothy’s soul still had one foot in Timothy Forsyte’s body, and Smither kept the atmosphere unchanging, of camphor and port wine and house whose windows are only opened to air it twice a day.
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






