Thomas Hardy Quotes
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That mercy towards one set of creatures was cruelty towards another sickened his sense of harmony. As you got older, and felt yourself to be at the center of your time, and not at a point in its circumference, as you had felt when you were little, you were seized with a sort of shuddering, he perceived. All around you there seemed to be something glaring, garish, rattling, and the noises and glares hit upon the little cell called your life, and shook it, and warped it.
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Sometimes a woman's love of being loved gets the better of her conscience, and though she is agonized at the thought of treating a man cruelly, she encourages him to love her while she doesn't love him at all. Then, when she sees him suffering, her remorse sets in, and she does what she can to repair the wrong.
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War makes rattling good history.
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He knelt and bent lower, till her breath warmed his face, and in a moment his cheek was in contact with hers. She was sleeping soundly, and upon her eyelashes there lingered tears.
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My eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.
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Of love it may be said, the less earthly the less demonstrative. In its absolutely indestructible form it reaches a profundity in which all exhibition of itself is painful.
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So do flux and reflux--the rhythm of change--alternate and persist in everything under the sky.
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If an offense come out of the truth, better is it that the offense come than that the truth be concealed.
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If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.
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We ought to have lived in mental communion, and no more.
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Dialect words are those terrible marks of the beast to the truly genteel.
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She was but a transient impression, half forgotten.
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You are Joseph the dreamer of dreams, dear Jude. And a tragic Don Quixote. And sometimes you are St. Stephen, who, while they were stoning him, could see Heaven opened. Oh, my poor friend and comrade, you'll suffer yet!
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Sometimes I shrink from your knowing what I have felt for you, and sometimes I am distressed that all of it you will never know.
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Some folk want their luck buttered.
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But no one came. Because no one ever does.
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This hobble of being alive is rather serious, don’t you think so?
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Meanwhile, the trees were just as green as before; the birds sang and the sun shone as clearly now as ever. The familiar surroundings had not darkened because of her grief, nor sickened because of her pain. She might have seen that what had bowed her head so profoundly -the thought of the world's concern at her situation- was found on an illusion. She was not an existence, an experience, a passion, a structure of sensations, to anybody but herself.
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Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?
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The defective can be more than the entire.
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A blaze of love and extinction, was better than a lantern glimmer of the same which should last long years.
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I am the family face; flesh perishes, I live on, projecting trait and trace through time to times anon, and leaping from place to place over oblivion.
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But nothing is more insidious than the evolution of wishes from mere fancies, and of wants from mere wishes.
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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.