Love of beauty is really only the sex instinct, which nothing but complete union satisfies.
JOHN GALSWORTHYFirst one, then the other, getting the upper hand, and too seldom fusing till the result has the mellowness of full achievement.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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He might wish and wish and never get it – the beauty and the loving in the world!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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 -
Idealism increases in direct proportion to one’s distance from the problem.
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 -
I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a thoroughbred horse.
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 -
It isn’t enough to love people because they’re good to you, or because in some way or other you’re going to get something by it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Come! Let us lay a lance in rest, And tilt at windmills under a wild sky!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
A man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, of what he can do, Nothing else.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
There are houses whose souls have passed into the limbo of Time, leaving their bodies in the limbo of London.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
He 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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
It’s not life that counts but the fortitude you bring into it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The French cook; we open tins.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
We are not living in a private world of our own.
JOHN GALSWORTHY