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I have never known a novel that was good enough to be good in spite of its being adapted to the author's political views.
Edith Wharton
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Edith Wharton
Age: 75 †
Born: 1862
Born: January 24
Died: 1937
Died: August 11
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Translator
Writer
New York City
New York
Edith Newbold Jones
Edith Newbold Jones Wharton
Views
Literature
Known
Political
Enough
Adapted
Good
Author
Never
Spite
Novel
More quotes by Edith Wharton
Then stay with me a little longer,' Madame Olenska said in a low tone, just touching his knee with her plumed fan. It was the lightest touch, but it thrilled him like a caress.
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Another unsettling element in modern art is that common symptom of immaturity, the dread of doing what has been done before.
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Don't you ever mind, she asked suddenly, not being rich enough to buy all the books you want?
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I discovered early that crying makes my nose red, and the knowledge has helped me through several painful episodes.
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There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
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Something he knew he had missed: the flower of life. But he thought of it now as a thing so unattainable and improbable that to have repined would have been like despairing because one had not drawn the first prize in a lottery.
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...and wondering where he had read that clever liars give details, but that the cleverest do not.
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He had to deal all at once with the packed regrets and stifled memories of an inarticulate lifetime.
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And all the while, I suppose, he thought, real people were living somewhere, and real things happening to them.
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The visible world is a daily miracle, for those who have eyes and ears.
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Life's just a perpetual piecing together of broken bits.
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Do you know-I hardly remembered you? Hardly remembered me? I mean: how shall I explain? I-it's always so. Each time you happen to me all over again.
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Her vivid smile was like a light held up to dazzle me.
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[I]t's safer to be fond of dangerous people.
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In a sky of iron the points of the Dipper hung like icicles and Orion flashed his cold fires.
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The only way not to think about money is to have a great deal of it.
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... there are spines to which the immobility of worship is not a strain.
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The visible world is a daily miracle for those who have eyes and ears and I still warm hands thankfully at the old fire, though every year it is fed with the dry wood of more old memories.
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Society soon grows used to any state of things which is imposed upon it without explanation.
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To visit Morocco is still like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines.
Edith Wharton