Thomas Hardy Quotes
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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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She was but a transient impression, half forgotten.
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Some folk want their luck buttered.
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All romances end at marriage.
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War makes rattling good history.
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There's a friendly tie of some sort between music and eating.
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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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We ought to have lived in mental communion, and no more.
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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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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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Dialect words are those terrible marks of the beast to the truly genteel.
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Like the British Constitution, she owes her success in practice to her inconsistencies in principle.
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In the ill-judged execution of the well-judged plan of things the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love rarely coincides with the hour for loving. Nature does not often say 'See!' to her poor creature at a time when seeing can lead to happy doing; or reply 'Here!' to a body's cry of 'Where?' till the hide-and-seek has become an irksome outworn game.
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My eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.
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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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The beauty or ugliness of a character lay not only in its achievements, but in its aims and impulses; its true history lay, not among things done, but among things willed.
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Nobody had beheld the gravitation of the two into one.
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Somebody might have come along that way who would have asked him his trouble, and might have cheered him by saying that his notions were further advanced than those of his grammarian. But nobody did come, because nobody does; and under the crushing recognition of his gigantic error Jude continued to wish himself out of the world.
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Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?
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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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You are absolutely the most ethereal, least sensual woman I ever knew to exist without inhuman sexlessness.
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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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The defective can be more than the entire.
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Women are so strange in their influence that they tempt you to misplaced kindness.