Quotes from Jerome K. Jerome

Life tastes much the same, whether we quaff it from a golden goblet or drink it out of a stone mug. The hours come laden with the same mixture of joy and sorrow, no matter where we wait for them.

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work; it fascinates me, I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me; the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart. You cannot give me too much work; to accumulate work has almost become a passion with me; my study is so full of it now that there is hardly an inch of room for any more.

Your friend's beauty, said he, I should describe as elusive. It is there, but you can easily miss it. Now, in that cap, to my mind, you do miss it.

What an ocean of boredom might be saved if science could but give us a barometer foretelling us our changes of temperament! How much more to our comfort we could plan our lives, knowing that on Monday, say, we should be feeling frivolous; on Saturday "dull to bad-tempered.

I objected to the sea trip strongly.  A sea trip does you good when you are going to have a couple of months of it, but, for a week, it is wicked.

We are but the veriest, sorriest slaves of our stomach. Reach not after morality and righteousness, my friends; watch vigilantly your stomach, and diet it with care and judgment. Then virtue and contentment will come and reign within your heart, unsought by any effort of your own; and you will be a good citizen, a loving husband, and a tender father - a noble, pious man.

found his conversation a strange mixture of self-laudation, showing through a flimsy veil of self-disparagement, and of satisfaction at the conviction that he was "saved," combined with equally evident satisfaction that most other people weren't — somewhat trying, however; and, remembering an appointment, rose to go.

Slowly the golden memory of the dead sun fades from the hearts of the cold, sad clouds. Silent, like sorrowing children, the birds have ceased their song, and only the moorhen's plaintive cry and the harsh croak of the corncrake stirs the awed hush around the couch of waters, where the dying day breathes out her last.

nu înc?pea îndoial? c? prezentam toate simptomele, cel mai important fiind totala lips? de poft? pentru orice fel de activitate. N-am cuvinte s? v? spun cât suf?r în aceast? privin??. Am fost un martir din cea mai fraged? copil?rie.

Harris wanted to get out at Hampton Church, to go and see Mrs. Thomas's tomb. "Who is Mrs. Thomas?" I asked. "How should I know?" replied Harris. "She's a lady that's got a funny tomb, and I want to see it.

MR. TRAVERS [jumping up]. Oh, I do wish you women wouldn't discuss the matter in that horribly business-like way. One would think the girl was selling herself. MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, don't be foolish, James. One must look at the practical side of these things. Marriage is a matter of sentiment to a man — very proper that it should be. A woman has to remember that she's fixing her position for life.

one that lingers long upon the retina of memory.

Io definisco la sua vera e propria saggezza, non soltanto per quanto concerne il nostro caso, ma anche riferendosi al viaggio che noi tutti compiamo lungo il fiume della vita. Quante persone, nel corso di tale viaggio, caricano la barca, al punto da farle correre il pericolo di colare a picco, con un intero magazzino di cose stupide ritenute essenziali per i piaceri e gli agi del viaggio ma che in realtà sono soltanto inutile ingombro!

No, what was sad in his case was that he, who didn't care for carved oak, should have his drawing-room panelled with it, while people who do care for it have to pay enormous prices to get it.  It seems to be the rule of this world. 

there's a difference between marrying and being married.

As there is no equality between man and woman, so there can be no respect. She is a different being. He must either look up to her as superior to himself, or down upon her as inferior. When a man does the former he is more or less in love, and love to John Ingerfield is an unknown emotion. Her beauty, her charm, her social tact — even while he makes use of them for his own purposes, he despises as the weapons of a weak nature.

Getta via il ciarpame, amico! Che la tua barchetta sia leggera, e porti soltanto ciò di cui hai bisogno.

It was a ramshackle affair, dragged along by a knock-kneed, broken-winded somnambulist, which his owner, in a moment of enthusiasm, during conversation, referred to as a horse.

What's he want to howl like that for when I'm playing?" George would exclaim indignantly, while taking aim at him with a boot. "What do you want to play like that for when he is howling?" Harris would retort, catching the boot.  "You let him alone.  He can't help howling.  He's got a musical ear, and your playing makes him howl.

No; it is not well to rule one's self by theories. We think, when we are very young, that theories, or "philosophies" as we term them, are guiding lights, held out by Wisdom over the pathway of life; we learn, as we grow older, that, too often, they are mere will-o'-the-wisps, hovering over dismal swamps where dead men's bones lie rotting.

But I've won, she said. I'm dying further forward. I've helped advance the line.

We never ought to allow our instincts of justice to degenerate into mere vindictiveness.

We are but the veriest, sorriest slaves of our stomach.  Reach not after morality and righteousness, my friends; watch vigilantly your stomach, and diet it with care and judgment. 

In the present instance, going back to the liver-pill circular, I had the symptoms, beyond all mistake, the chief among them being "a general disinclination to work of any kind." What I suffer in that way no tongue can tell.  From my