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I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved.
– George Eliot
Whether happiness may come or not, one should try and prepare one’s self to do without it.
For what is love itself, for the one we love best? An enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.
One must be poor to know the luxury of giving!
Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.
When death comes it is never our tenderness that we repent from, but our severity.
He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.
Iteration, like friction, is likely to generate heat instead of progress.
The egoism which enters into our theories does not affect their sincerity; rather, the more our egoism is satisfied, the more robust is our belief.
What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
Blessed is the influence of one true, loving human soul on another.
It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view.
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
We must not sit still and look for miracles; up and doing, and the Lord will be with thee. Prayer and pains, through faith in Christ Jesus, will do anything.
The sons of Judah have to choose that God may again choose them. The divine principle of our race is action, choice, resolved memory.
No compliment can be eloquent, except as an expression of indifference.
Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
The important work of moving the world forward does not wait to be done by perfect men.
Falsehood is easy, truth so difficult.
I desire no future that will break the ties with the past.
No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.
Quarrel? Nonsense; we have not quarreled. If one is not to get into a rage sometimes, what is the good of being friends?
The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.
If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.
We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment.
You should read history and look at ostracism, persecution, martyrdom, and that kind of thing. They always happen to the best men, you know.
I’m proof against that word failure. I’ve seen behind it. The only failure a man ought to fear is failure of cleaving to the purpose he sees to be best.
Rome – the city of visible history, where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar.
The world is full of hopeful analogies and handsome, dubious eggs, called possibilities.
Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.