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 GALSWORTHYIt 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.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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Take modern courtships! They resulted in the same thing as under George the Second, but took longer to reach it, owing to the motor-cycle and the standing lunch.
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 -
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 -
Love has no age, no limit; and no death.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
If you do not think about the future, you cannot have one.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Westminster, was so unobtrusively American that his driver had some hesitation in asking for double his fare. The young man had no hesitation in refusing it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
When Man evolved Pity, he did a queer thing – deprived himself of the power of living life as it is without wishing it to become something different.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Beginnings are always messy.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Headlines twice the size of the events.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
One’s eyes are what one is, one’s mouth is what one becomes.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
We have known an emotion which is in every case the same in kind, if not in degree; an emotion precious and uplifting.
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 -
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 -
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