The yard was a little centre of regeneration. Here, with keen edges and smooth curves, were forms in the exact likeness of those he had seen abraded and time-eaten on the walls. These were the ideas in modern prose which the lichened colleges presented in old poetry. Even some of those antiques might have been called prose when they were new. They had done nothing but wait, and had become poetical. How easy to the smallest building; how impossible to most men.
Why it was that upon this beautiful feminine tissue, sensitive as gossamer, and practically blank as snow as yet, there should have been traced such a coarse pattern as it was doomed to receive; why so often the coarse appropriates the finer thus, the wrong man the woman, the wrong women the man, many years of analytical philosophy have failed to explain to our sense of order
Indifference to fate which, though it often makes a villain of a man, is the basis of his sublimity when it does not.
Men thin away to insignificance and oblivion quite as often by not making the most of good spirits when they have them as by lacking good spirits when they are indispensable.
Or, to state his character as it stood in the scale of public opinion, when his friends and critics were in tantrums, he was considered rather a bad man; when they were pleased, he was rather a good man; when they were neither, he was a man whose moral colour was a kind of pepper-and-salt mixture.
She simply observed herself as a fair product of Nature in the feminine kind, her thoughts seeming to glide into far-off though likely dramas in which men would play a part-vistas of probable triumphs-the smiles being of a phase suggesting that hearts were imagined as lost and won.
Remember that the best and greatest among mankind are those who do themselves no worldly good. Every successful man is more or less a selfish man. The devoted fail...
But, unto the store
Of human deeds divine in all but name,
Was it not worth a little hour or more
To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came
To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be
You love me not.
You was a good man, and did good things.
Her life was the price she would pay for that whine--
For a child by the man she did not love.
The value of old age depends upon the person who reaches it. To some men of early performance it is useless. To others, who are late to develop, it just enables them to finish the job.
One pondered on the life of man,
His hopes, his endings, and began
To rate the Market's sordid war
As something scarce worth living for.
The main object of religion is not to get a man into heaven, but to get heaven into him.
More Thomas Hardy Quotations (Based on Topics)
Love - Life - Man - Woman - Time - Nature - Emotions - Mind - Fairness - Sadness - Imagination & Visualization - Pleasure - Hope - Silence - Vice & Virtue - Happiness - Pain - Truth - Thought & Thinking - View All Thomas Hardy Quotations
More Thomas Hardy Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Far from the Madding Crowd
- Jude the Obscure
- Tess of the D'Urbervilles
- The Mayor of Casterbridge
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