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 GALSWORTHYThere 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.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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Love could never come to full fruition till it was destroyed.
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 -
Humanism is the creed of those who believe that in the circle of enwrapping mystery, men’s fates are in their own hands.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
It isnot good enough tospend time and ink indescribing the penultimate sensations and physical movements of people getting into a state of rut, we all know them so well.
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 -
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 -
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 -
We have known an emotion which is in every case the same in kind, if not in degree; an emotion precious and uplifting.
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Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.
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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 -
Only love makes fruitful the soul.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The law is what it is-a majestic edifice, sheltering all of us, each stone of which rests on another.
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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.
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It’s not life that counts but the fortitude you bring into it.
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






