The main object of religion is not to get a man into heaven, but to get heaven into him.
I shall do one thing in this life-one thing certain-this is, love you, and long of you, and keep wanting you till I die.
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.
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...
Love is a possible strength in an actual weakness.
The value of old age depends upon the person who reaches it. To some men of early performance it is useless. To others, who are late to develop, it just enables them to finish the job.
I agree to the conditions, Angel; because you know best what my punishment ought to be; only – only – don’t make it more than I can bear!
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...
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.
Indifference to fate which, though it often makes a villain of a man, is the basis of his sublimity when it does not.
They spoke very little of their mutual feeling; pretty phrases and warm expressions being probably unnecessary between such tried friends.
You ride well, but you don’t kiss nicely at all.
Silence has sometimes a remarkable power of showing itself as the disembodied soul of feeling wandering without its carcase, and it is then more impressive than speech.
Well, what I mean is that I shouldn’t mind being a bride at a wedding, if I could be one without having a husband.
The beauty or ugliness of a character lay not only in its achievements, but in its aims and impulses; its true history lay, not among things done, but among things willed.
You are Joseph the dreamer of dreams, dear Jude. And a tragic Don Quixote. And sometimes you are St. Stephen, who, while they were stoning him, could see Heaven opened. Oh, my poor friend and comrade, you’ll suffer yet!
I wish I had never been born – there or anywhere else.
We ought to have lived in mental communion, and no more.
All romances end at marriage.
It was then that the ecstasy and the dream began, in which emotion was the matter of the universe, and matter but an adventitious intrusion likely to hinder you from spinning where you wanted to spin.