Letitia Elizabeth Landon Quotes
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doubts, like facts, are stubborn things.
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... true love is like religion, it hath its silence and its sanctity.
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If there be any one habit which more than another is the dry rot of all that is high and generous in youth, it is the habit of ridicule.
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marriage is like money - seem to want it, and you never get it.
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It is said that ridicule is the test of truth; but it is never applied except when we wish to deceive ourselves - when if we cannot exclude the light, we would fain draw the curtain before it. The sneer springs out of the wish to deny; and wretched must that state of mind be, that wishes to take refuge in doubt.
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The very effort to forget teaches us to remember.
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So much to win, so much to lose, No marvel that I fear to choose.
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To this hour, the great science and duty of politics is lowered by the petty leaven of small and personal advantage.
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We might have been - these are but common words, and yet they make the sum of life's bewailing.
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Hard are life's early steps; and but that youth is buoyant, confident, and strong in hope, men would behold its threshold, and despair.
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When does the mind put forth its powers? when are the stores of memory unlocked? when does wit 'flash from fluent lips?' -- when but after a good dinner? Who will deny its influence on the affections? Half our friends are born of turbots and truffles.
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No thoroughly occupied man was ever yet very miserable.[to feel unhappy you need the time to consider how your lot could be better]
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Toil is the portion of day, as sleep is that of night; but if there be one hour of the twenty-four which has the life of day without its labor, and the rest of night without its slumber, it is the lovely and languid hour of twilight.
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words alike make the destiny of empires and of individuals. Ambition, love, hate, interest, vanity, have words for their engines, and need none more powerful. Language is a fifth element - the one by which all the others are swayed.
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The wind has a language, I would I could learn! Sometimes 'tis soothing, and sometimes 'tis stern, Sometimes it comes like a low sweet song, And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along, And the forest is lull'd by the dreamy strain, And slumber sinks down on the wandering main, And its crystal arms are folded in rest, And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.
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Imagination is to love what gas is to the balloon-that which raises it from earth.
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in came ... a baby, eloquent as infancy usually is, and like most youthful orators, more easily heard than understood.
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A woman only can understand a woman.
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I cannot see why a taste for the country should be held so very indispensable a requisite for excellence; but really people talk of it as if it were a virtue, and as if an opposite opinion was, to say the least of it, very immoral.
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Sneering springs out of the wish to deny; and wretched must that state of mind be that wishes to take refuge in doubt.
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Politeness, however, acts the lady's maid to our thoughts; and they are washed, dressed, curled, rouged, and perfumed, before they are presented to the public.
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We are rarely wrong when we act from impulse.
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... many a heart is caught in the rebound ... Pride may be soothed by the ready devotion of another; vanity may be excited the more keenly by recent mortification.
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It is a curious fact, but a fact it is, that your witty people are the most hard-hearted in the world. The truth is, fancy destroys feeling. The quick eye to the ridiculous turns every thing to the absurd side; and the neat sentence, the lively allusion, and the odd simile, invest what they touch with something of their own buoyant nature. Humor is of the heart, and has its tears; but wit is of the head, and has only smiles - and the majority of those are bitter.
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An apt quotation is like a lamp which flings its light over the whole sentence.
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The past is perpetual youth to the heart.
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The lover and the physician are each popular from the same cause - we talk to them of nothing but ourselves.
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no hour arrives so soon as the one we dread.
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To be rude is as good as being clever.
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Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?
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