It is generally a feminine eye that first detects the moral deficiencies hidden under the ''dear deceit'' of beauty.
Human beliefs, like all other natural growths, elude the barrier of systems.
Who has not felt the beauty of a woman's arm? The unspeakable suggestions of tenderness that lie in the dimpled elbow, and all the varied gently-lessening curves, down to the delicate wrist, with its tiniest, almost imperceptible nicks in the firm softness.
No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.
Category: Books And Reading
To be candid, in Middlemarch phraseology, meant, to use an early opportunity of letting your friends know that you did not take a cheerful view of their capacity, their conduct, or their position; and a robust candor never waited to be asked for its opinion.
He was at a starting point which makes many a man's career a fine subject for betting, if there were any gentlemen given to that amusement who could appreciate the complicated probabilities of an arduous purpose, with all the possible thwartings and furtherings of circumstance, all the niceties of inward balance, by which a man swings and makes his point or else is carried headlong.
Life is measured by the rapidity of change, the succession of influences that modify the being.
For character too is a process and an unfolding... among our valued friends is there not someone or other who is a little too self confident and disdainful; whose distinguished mind is a little spotted with commonness; who is a little pinched here and protuberant there with native prejudices; or whose better energies are liable to lapse down the wrong channel under the influence of transient solicitations?
Ignorance... is a painless evil; so, I should think, is dirt, considering the merry faces that go along with it.
We hand folks over to God's mercy, and show none ourselves.
No compliment can be eloquent, except as an expression of indifference.
It is possible to have a strong self-love without any self-satisfaction, rather with a self-discontent which is the more intense because one's own little core of egoistic sensibility is a supreme care.
I've never any pity for conceited people, because I think they carry their comfort about with them.
The desire to conquer is itself a sort of subjection.
The beginning of compunction is the beginning of a new life.