Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they
know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.
Tags: mourning death-of-a-loved-one
If you had a table spread for a feast, and was making merry with your friends, you would think it was kind to let me come and sit down and rejoice with you, because you’d think I should like to share those good things; but I should like better to share in your trouble and your labour.
George EliotTags: friendship compassion empathy grief
How can a man’s candour be seen in all its lustre unless he has a few failings to talk of? But he had an agreeable confidence that his faults were all of a generous kind—impetuous, arm-blooded, leonine; never crawling, crafty, reptilian.
George EliotTags: self-deception arrogance depravity
John considered a young master as the natural enemy of an old servant, and young people in general as a poor contrivance for carrying on the world.
George EliotTags: submission generation-gap
It is the favourite stratagem of our passions to sham a retreat, and to turn sharp round upon us at the moment we have made up our minds that the day is our own.
George EliotHer little butterfly soul fluttered incessantly between memory and dubious expectation.
George EliotTags: distraction anxiety
She hates everything that is not what she longs for.
George EliotTags: passion obsession desire mania
College mostly makes people like bladders—
just good for nothing but t’ hold the stuff as is poured into ‘em.
A man carries within him the germ of his most exceptional action; and if we wise people make eminent fools of ourselves on any particular occasion, we must endure the legitimate conclusion that we carry a few grains of folly to our ounce of wisdom.
George EliotTags: character fallibility
I fear that in this thing many rich people deceive themselves. They go on accumulating the means but never using them; making bricks, but never building.
George EliotTags: riches
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