Quotes About Quote

Probabilities—the surest screen a wise man can place between himself and the truth.

still—it could not be fairly called wooing a woman to tell her that he would never woo her. It must be admitted to be a ghostly kind of wooing.

No one knew where wandering men had their homes or their origin; and how was a man to be explained unless you at least knew somebody who knew his father and mother?

You are a poem--and that is to be the best part of a poet--what makes up the poet's consciousness in his best moods.

She says, he is a great soul.—A great bladder for dried peas to rattle in!" said Mrs. Cadwallader.

The Vicar's talk was not always inspiriting: he had escaped being a Pharisee, but he had not escaped that low estimate of possibilities which we rather hastily arrive at as an inference from our own failure.

He has got no good red blood in his body, said Sir James.

Plainness has its peculiar temptations and vices quite as much as beauty; it is apt either to feign amiability, or not feigning it, to show all the repulsiveness of discontent.

Her shrewdness had a streak of satiric bitterness continually renewed and never carried utterly out of sight, except by a strong current of gratitude towards those who, instead of telling her that she ought to be contented, did something to make her so.

He has got no good red blood in his body," said Sir James. "No. Somebody put a drop under a magnifying-glass and it was all semicolons and parentheses," said Mrs. Cadwallader.

But womanly, I hope, said Mrs. Garth, half suspecting that Mrs. Casaubon might not hold the true principle of subordination.

Oh, blameless people are always the most exasperating.

He once called her his basil plant;* and when she asked for an explanation, said that basil was a plant which had flourished wonderfully on a murdered man's brains.

Dodo! exclaimed Celia, looking after her in surprise. I never heard you make such a comparison before. Why should I make it before the occasion came? It is a good comparison: the match is perfect.

he was a likable man: sweet-tempered, ready-witted, frank, without grins of suppressed bitterness or other conversational flavors which make half of us an affliction to our friends.

Stone Court were scenting the air quite impartially, as if Mr. Raffles

character is not cut in marble—it is not something solid and unalterable. It is something living and changing, and may become diseased as our bodies do.

If you put him a-horseback on politics, I warn you of the consequences. It was all very well to ride on sticks at home and call them ideas.

Solomon's Proverbs, I think, have omitted to say, that as the sore palate findeth grit, so an uneasy consciousness heareth innuendoes.

as Voltaire said, incantations will destroy a flock of sheep if administered with a certain quantity of arsenic.

In short, woman was a problem which, since Mr Brooke's mind felt blank before it, could be hardly less complicated than the revolutions of an irregular solid.

A thorn in her spirit, a pink-and-white nullifidian, worse than any discouraging presence in the 'Pilgrim's Progress'.

the red drapery which was being hung for Christmas spreading itself everywhere like a disease of the retina. Not

I rather like a haughty manner. I cannot endure a rattling young man.