Explore popular quotes and sayings by a British novelist George Eliot.
Last updated on December 3, 2024.
Mary Ann Evans, known by her pen name George Eliot, was an English novelist, poet, journalist, translator and one of the leading writers of the Victorian era. She wrote seven novels: Adam Bede (1859), The Mill on the Floss (1860), Silas Marner (1861), Romola (1862–63), Felix Holt, the Radical (1866), Middlemarch (1871–72) and Daniel Deronda (1876). Like Charles Dickens and Thomas Hardy, she emerged from provincial England; most of her works are set there. Her works are known for their realism, psychological insight, sense of place and detailed depiction of the countryside.
It is easy to say how we love new friends, and what we think of them, but words can never trace out all the fibers that knit us to the old.
Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined - to strengthen each other - to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.
Cruelty, like every other vice, requires no motive outside of itself; it only requires opportunity.
The responsibility of tolerance lies with those who have the wider vision.
What do we live for, if not to make life less difficult for each other?
The years between fifty and seventy are the hardest. You are always being asked to do things, and yet you are not decrepit enough to turn them down.
Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.
I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved.
The reward of one duty is the power to fulfill another.
He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.
Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles.
The happiest women, like the happiest nations, have no history.
Rome - the city of visible history, where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar.
No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.
There is only one failure in life possible, and that is not to be true to the best one knows.
Excellence encourages one about life generally; it shows the spiritual wealth of the world.
When death, the great reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.
The world is full of hopeful analogies and handsome, dubious eggs, called possibilities.
It will never rain roses: when we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.
The beginning of compunction is the beginning of a new life.
Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face.
All meanings, we know, depend on the key of interpretation.
There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.
Our deeds still travel with us from afar, and what we have been makes us what we are.
Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.
What makes life dreary is the want of a motive.
An election is coming. Universal peace is declared, and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry.
The important work of moving the world forward does not wait to be done by perfect men.
Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.
Adventure is not outside man; it is within.
It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view.
There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.
If we had a keen vision of all that is ordinary in human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow or the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which is the other side of silence.
One must be poor to know the luxury of giving!
I'm not denyin' the women are foolish. God Almighty made 'em to match the men.
There are many victories worse than a defeat.
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from.
Little children are still the symbol of the eternal marriage between love and duty.
Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions; they pass no criticisms.
Blessed is the man, who having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact.
The strongest principle of growth lies in the human choice.
Death is the king of this world: 'Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet.
Falsehood is easy, truth so difficult.
Different taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections.
Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together.
Might, could, would - they are contemptible auxiliaries.
There is no private life which has not been determined by a wider public life.
It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.
Our words have wings, but fly not where we would.
Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love.
It is never too late to be what you might have been.
What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down.
Blessed is the influence of one true, loving human soul on another.
When death comes it is never our tenderness that we repent from, but our severity.