Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

The tread Of coming footsteps cheats the midnight watcher Who holds her heart and waits to hear them pause, And hears them never pause, but pass and die.

Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.

Friendships begin with liking or gratitude — roots that can be pulled up.

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. -George Eliot.

Perhaps the most delightful friendships are those in which there is much agreement, much disputation, and yet more personal liking.

Gossip is a sort of smoke that comes from the dirty tobacco-pipes of those who diffuse it; it proves nothing but the bad taste of the smoker.

No great deed is done By falterers who ask for certainty.

To be great is to be misunderstood.

When you see fair hair Be pitiful.

Hatred is like fire -- it makes even light rubbish deadly.

There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder.

But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in which each feels that the other is feeling something, having once existed, its effect is not to be done away with.

She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.

Hell is oneself; Hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone.

A difference of taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections.

Ignorance gives one a large range of probabilities.

All our ignorance brings us closer to death.

Strange, that some of us, with quick alternate vision, see beyond our infatuations, and even while we rave on the heights, behold the wide plain where our persistent self pauses and awaits us.

Blessed influence of one true loving human soul on another.

O may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence; live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self. In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.