When women are secret they are secret indeed; and more often then not they only begin to be secret with the advent of a second lover.
THOMAS HARDYIndifference to fate which, though it often makes a villain of a man, is the basis of his sublimity when it does not.
More Thomas Hardy Quotes
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It was still early, and the sun’s lower limb was just free of the hill, his rays, ungenial and peering, addressed the eye rather than the touch as yet.
THOMAS HARDY -
If an offense come out of the truth, better is it that the offense come than that the truth be concealed.
THOMAS HARDY -
All romances end at marriage.
THOMAS HARDY -
That it would always be summer and autumn, and you always courting me, and always thinking as much of me as you have done through the past summertime!
THOMAS HARDY -
I may do some good before I am dead–be a sort of success as a frightful example of what not to do; and so illustrate a moral story.
THOMAS HARDY -
She was at that modulating point between indifference and love, at the stage called having a fancy for. It occurs once in the history of the most gigantic passions, and it is a period when they are in the hands of the weakest will.
THOMAS HARDY -
The perfect woman, you see [is] a working-woman; not an idler; not a fine lady; but one who [uses] her hands and her head and her heart for the good of others.
THOMAS HARDY -
The sudden disappointment of a hope leaves a scar which the ultimate fulfillment of that hope never entirely removes.
THOMAS HARDY -
And at home by the fire, whenever you look up there I shall be— and whenever I look up, there will be you.
THOMAS HARDY -
O, you have torn my life all to pieces… made me be what I prayed you in pity not to make me be again!
THOMAS HARDY -
Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?
THOMAS HARDY -
Remember that the best and greatest among mankind are those who do themselves no worldly good. Every successful man is more or less a selfish man. The devoted fail.
THOMAS HARDY -
You concede nothing to me and I have to concede everything to you.
THOMAS HARDY -
To be loved to madness–such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial which could drive away the eating loneliness of her days. And she seemed to long for the abstraction called passionate love more than for any particular lover.
THOMAS HARDY -
We colour and mould according to the wants within us whatever our eyes bring in.
THOMAS HARDY