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What a wretched lot of old shrivelled creatures we shall be by-and-by. Never mind - the uglier we get in the eyes of others, the lovelier we shall be to each other; that has always been my firm faith about friendship.
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It is not true that a man's intellectual power is, like the strength of a timber beam, to be measured by its weakest point.
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It's no trifle at her time at her time of life to part with a doctor who knows her constitution.
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It is a wonderful subduer, this need of love-this hunger of the heart-as peremptory as that other hunger by which Nature forces us to submit to the yoke, and change the face of the world.
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Would not love see returning penitence afar off, and fall on its neck and kiss it?
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Better spend an extra hundred or two on your son's education, than leave it him in your will.
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How oft review; each finding, like a friend, Something to blame, and something to commend.
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And we must learn to accommodate ourselves to the discovery that some of those cunningly-fashioned instruments called human souls have only a very limited range of music, and will not vibrate in the least under a touch that fills others with tremulous rapture or quivering agony.
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Among all the many kinds of first love, that which begins in childish companionship is the strongest and most enduring: when passion comes to unite its force to long affection, love is at its spring-tide.
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No farther will I travel: once again My brethren I will see, and that fair plain Where I and song were born. There fresh-voiced youth Will pour my strains with all the early truth Which now abides not in my voice and hands, But only in the soul, the will that stands Helpless to move. My tribe remembering Will cry, ''Tis he!' and run to greet me, welcoming.
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With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and the tinglings of a merited shame.
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the rich ate and drank freely, accepting gout and apoplexy as things that ran mysteriously in respectable families . . .
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These bitter sorrows of childhood! when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.
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Husbands are an inferior class of men, who require keeping in order.
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So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.
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But veracity is a plant of paradise, and the seeds have never flourished beyond the walls.
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But indefinite visions of ambition are weak against the ease of doing what is habitual or beguilingly agreeable; and we all know the difficulty of carrying out a resolve when we secretly long that it may turn out to be unnecessary. In such states of mind the most incredulous person has a private leaning towards miracle: impossible to conceive how our wish could be fulfilled, still - very wonderful things have happened!
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The strength of the donkey mind lies in adopting a course inversely as the arguments urged, which, well considered, requires as great a mental force as the direct sequence.
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That by desiring what is perfectly good, even when we don't quite know what it is and cannot do what we would, we are part of the divine power against evil -- widening the skirts of light and making the struggle with darkness narrower.
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The responsibility of tolerance lies with those who have the wider vision.
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The human heart finds nowhere shelter but in human kind.
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I take a dose of mathematics every day to prevent my brain from becoming quite soft.
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Childhood has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.
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If art does not enlarge men's sympathies, it does nothing morally.