Maxioms by George Eliot
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, read more
Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. -George Eliot.
Hatred is like fire -- it makes even light rubbish deadly.
Hatred is like fire -- it makes even light rubbish deadly.
What quarrel, what harshness, what unbelief in each other can subsist in the presence of a great calamity, when all read more
What quarrel, what harshness, what unbelief in each other can subsist in the presence of a great calamity, when all the artificial vesture of our life is gone, and we are all one with each other in primitive mortal needs?
But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in which each feels that the other is feeling something, having once existed, its read more
But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in which each feels that the other is feeling something, having once existed, its effect is not to be done away with.