George Eliot
George Eliot
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 is the author of seven novels, including Adam Bede, The Mill on the Floss, Silas Marner, Felix Holt, the Radical, Middlemarch, and Daniel Deronda, most of them set in provincial England and known for their realism and psychological insight...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 November 1819
late might
It is never too late to become what you might have been
late might
It is never to late to be what you might have been
too-late never-too-late late
It is never too late to become the person you always thought you could be.
life real too-late
Perhaps nothing ud be a lesson to us if it didn't come too late. It's well we should feel as life's a reckoning we can't make twice over; there's no real making amends in this world, any more nor you can mend a wrong subtraction by doing your addition right.
successful goal too-late
It's never too late to be who you were meant to be.
british-author late might
It is never too late to be what you might have been.
flows foot invisible obedience path river
How will you find good? It is not a thing of choice; it is a river that flows from the foot of the invisible throne, and flows by the path of obedience
came casket consciousness dependence dull expectation faint heart help inevitably left locked prop sight slight stirring though treasure utterly
Formerly, his heart had been as a locked casket with its treasure inside; but now the casket was empty, and the lock was broken. Left groping in darkness, with his prop utterly gone, Silas had inevitably a sense, though a dull and half-despairing one, that if any help came to him it must come from without; and there was a slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a faint consciousness of dependence on their goodwill.
circumstance fred power sharpening stress
. . . for the stress of circumstances, Fred felt, was sharpening his acuteness and endowing him with all the constructive power of suspicion.
cares joys love outside
For what is love itself, for the one we love best? - an enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love
breath exalt human love perfect poetry relation
Perfect love has a breath of poetry which can exalt the relation of the least-instructed human beings...
activity falls grief intelligence-and-intellectuals life serene struggle supremacy understand worldly
Only those who know the supremacy of the intellectual life can understand the grief of one who falls from that serene activity into the absorbing soul-wasting struggle with worldly annoyances.
best die feeling grass grow hearing heart human keen lies ordinary roar side vision walk
If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the best of us walk about well wadded with stupidity.
break charm mortals ordinary organ rush seemed sound street whistling wind
Lohengrin' to us ordinary mortals seemed something like the whistling of the wind through the keyholes of a cathedral, which has a dreamy charm for a little while, but by and by you long for the sound even of a street organ to rush in and break the