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 GALSWORTHYthe biggest tragedy of life is the utter impossibility to change what you have done
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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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.
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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.
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We are all familiar with the argument: Make war dreadful enough, and there will be no war. And we none of us believe it.
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Honesty of thought and speech and written word is a jewel.
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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.
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Only out of stir and change is born new salvation. To deny that is to deny belief in man, to turn our backs on courage!
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The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
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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.
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Love! Beyond measure – beyond death – it nearly kills. But one wouldn’t have been without it.
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Under its influence, wholly or in part, have blossomed weekends, strong nerves, strong legs, strong language… equality of sex, good digestion and professional occupation – in four words, the emanicipation of women.
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The talked-about is always the last to hear the talk . . .
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If you do not think about the future, you cannot have one.
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It’s not life that counts but the fortitude you bring into it.
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Justice is a machine that, when some one has once given it the starting push, rolls on of itself.
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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