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 GALSWORTHYFor, what is grievous, dompting, grim, about our lives is that we are shut up within ourselves, with an itch to get outside ourselves.
More John Galsworthy Quotes
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The building of a house, the writing of a novel, the demolition of a bridge, and, eminently, the finish of a voyage.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Come! Let us lay a lance in rest, And tilt at windmills under a wild sky!
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Love of beauty is really only the sex instinct, which nothing but complete union satisfies.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The value of a sentiment is the amount of sacrifice you are prepared to make for it.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
There are houses whose souls have passed into the limbo of Time, leaving their bodies in the limbo of London.
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 -
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 -
Beginnings are always messy.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Everything we say and do and think has its effect on everything around us.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The sense of form that both had in such high degree prevented much demonstration; but to be with him, do things for him, to admire, and credit him with perfection; and, since she could not exactly wear the same clothes or speak in the same clipped, quiet, decisive voice.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
The law is what it is-a majestic edifice, sheltering all of us, each stone of which rests on another.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Justice is a machine that, when some one has once given it the starting push, rolls on of itself.
JOHN GALSWORTHY -
Dreaming is the poetry of Life, and we must be forgiven if we indulge in it a little.
JOHN GALSWORTHY