George Eliot

Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.

Breed is stronger than pasture.

Renunciation remains sorrow, though a sorrow borne willingly.

Play not with paradoxes. That caustic which you handle in order to scorch others may happen to sear your own fingers and make them dead to the quality of things.

To have in general but little feeling, seems to be the only security against feeling too much on any particular occasion.

It’s them as take advantage that get advantage I this world.

Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.

It is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire and many things to fear.

The beginning is the most important part of the work.

The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.

A soiled baby, with a neglected nose, cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty.

Action speaks louder than words but not nearly as often.

The presence of a noble nature, generous in its wishes, ardent in its charity, changes the lights for us: we begin to see things again in their larger, quieter masses, and to believe that we too can be seen and judged in the wholeness of our character.

The next best thing to saying a good thing yourself, is to quote one.

Upon awakening, let the words Thank You flow from your lips, for this will remind you to begin your day with gratitude and compassion.

It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as painful as the other.

The greatest gift is the ability to forget – to forget the bad things and focus on the good.

Nothing does reason more right, than the coolness of those that offer it: For Truth often suffers more by the heat of its defenders, than from the arguments of its opposers.

He looks the whole world in the face for he owes not any man.

It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem. Every new relationship is a new word.

The very ink with which history is written is merely fluid prejudice.