Indifference to fate which, though it often makes a villain of a man, is the basis of his sublimity when it does not.
THOMAS HARDYSo each had a private little sun for her soul to bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby, or at least some remote and distant hope.
More Thomas Hardy Quotes
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And yet to every bad there is a worse.
THOMAS HARDY -
But his dreams were as gigantic as his surroundings were small.
THOMAS HARDY -
The sudden disappointment of a hope leaves a scar which the ultimate fulfillment of that hope never entirely removes.
THOMAS HARDY -
It was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity.
THOMAS HARDY -
There are accents in the eye which are not on the tongue, and more tales come from pale lips than can enter an ear. It is both the grandeur and the pain of the remoter moods that they avoid the pathway of sound.
THOMAS HARDY -
Women are attracted to silent men. They believe they are listening.
THOMAS HARDY -
You ride well, but you don’t kiss nicely at all.
THOMAS HARDY -
You overrate my capacity of love. I don’t posess half the warmth of nature you believe me to have. An unprotected childhood in a cold world has beaten gentleness out of me.
THOMAS HARDY -
I wish I had never been born–there or anywhere else.
THOMAS HARDY -
All romances end at marriage.
THOMAS HARDY -
Their position was perhaps the happiest of all positions in the social scale, being above the line at which neediness ends, and below the line at which the convenances begin to cramp natural feeling, and the stress of threadbare modishness makes too little of enough.
THOMAS HARDY -
The offhand decision of some commonplace mind high in office at a critical moment influences the course of events for a hundred years.
THOMAS HARDY -
That man’s silence is wonderful to listen to.
THOMAS HARDY -
So each had a private little sun for her soul to bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby, or at least some remote and distant hope.
THOMAS HARDY -
She moved about in a mental cloud of many-coloured idealities, which eclipsed all sinister contingencies by its brightness.
THOMAS HARDY






