George Meredith Quotes
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Lowly, with a broken neck, The crocus lays her cheek to mire.
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We never know what's in us till we stand by ourselves.
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Always imitate the behaviour of the winners when you lose.
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It is the devil's masterstroke to get us to accuse him
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My religion of life is always to be cheerful.
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Prayer for worldly goods is worse than fruitless, but prayer for strength of soul is that passion of the soul which catches the gift it seeks.
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Swift doth young Love flee, And we stand wakened, shivering from our dream.
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That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!
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Kissing don't last: cookery do!
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How many a thing which we cast to the ground, When others pick it up, becomes a gem!
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Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars.
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Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law.
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What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!
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Memoirs are the backstairs of history.
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Cynicism is intellectual dandyism.
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Chance works for us when we are good captains.
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Possession without obligation to the object possessed approaches felicity.
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The well of true wit is truth itself.
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Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts.
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Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!
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Among the Diaries beginning with the second quarter of our century, there is frequent mention of a lady then becoming famous for her beauty and her wit: "an unusual combination," in the deliberate syllables of one of the writers, who is, however, not disposed to personal irony when speaking of her.
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She poured a little social sewage into his ears.
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The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.
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I expect Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man.
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Cultivated men and women who do not skim the cream of life, and are attached to the duties, yet escape the harsher blows, make acute and balanced observers.
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And if I drink oblivion of a day, / So shorten I the stature of my soul.
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There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.
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Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life! - In tragic hints here see what evermore Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean's force, Thundering like ramping hosts of warrior horse, To throw that faint thin fine upon the shore!
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See ye not, Courtesy is the true Alchemy, turning to gold all it touches and tries?
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Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
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