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 GALSWORTHYThe building of a house, the writing of a novel, the demolition of a bridge, and, eminently, the finish of a voyage.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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There is one rule for politicians all over the world: Don’t say in Power what you say in opposition; if you do, you only have to carry out what the other fellows have found impossible.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Public opinion’s always in advance of the law.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
There are houses whose souls have passed into the limbo of Time, leaving their bodies in the limbo of London.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
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 GALSWORTHY -
A man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, of what he can do, Nothing else.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
We are all familiar with the argument: Make war dreadful enough, and there will be no war. And we none of us believe it.
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 -
I drink the wine of aspiration and the drug of illusion. Thus I am never dull.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
the biggest tragedy of life is the utter impossibility to change what you have done
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
A snowy, moonlit peak, with its single star, soaring up to the passionate blue; or against the flames of sunset, an old yew-tree standing dark guardian of some fiery secret.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
A faith that for modern man is becoming the only possible faith.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Only love makes fruitful the soul.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Memory heaps dead leaves on corpse-like deeds, from under which they do but vaguely offend the sense.
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 -
By the cigars they smoke, and the composers they love, ye shall know the texture of men’s souls.
JOHN GALSWORTHY