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What Lily craved was the darkness made by enfolding arms, the silence which is not solitude, but compassion holding its breath.
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
Made
Holding
Breath
Breaths
Solitude
Compassion
Enfolding
Darkness
Craved
Arms
Lily
Silence
Lilies
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What a shame it is for a nation to be developing without a sense of beauty, and eating bananas for breakfast.
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She wondered if, when human souls try to get too near each other, they do not inevitably become mere blurs to each other's vision.
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The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.
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When people ask for time, it's always for time to say no. Yes has one more letter in it, but it doesn't take half as long to say.
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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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It must be less wicked to love the wrong person than not to love anybody at all.
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He simply felt that if he could carry away the vision of the spot of earth she walked on, and the way the sky and sea enclosed it, the rest of the world might seem less empty.
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The desire for symmetry, for balance, for rhythm in form as well as in sound, is one of the most inveterate of human instincts.
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One of the first obligations of art is to make all useful things beautiful.
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It was too late for happiness - but not too late to be helped by the thought of what I had missed. That is all I haved lived on - don't take it from me now
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There are lots of ways of being miserable, but there's only one way of being comfortable, and that is to stop running round after happiness. If you make up your mind not to be happy there's no reason why you shouldn't have a fairly good time.
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The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything else.
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The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through a pale haze of spring.
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[I]t's safer to be fond of dangerous people.
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He had married (as most young men did) because he had met a perfectly charming girl at the moment when a series of rather aimless sentimental adventures were ending in premature disgust and she had represented peace, stability, comradeship, and the steadying sense of an unescapable duty.
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Little as she was addicted to solitude, there had come to be moments when it seemed a welcome escape from the empty noises of her life.
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Half the trouble in life is caused by pretending there isn't any.
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It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes.
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Their long years together had shown him that it did not so much matter if marriage was a dull duty, as long as it kept the dignity of duty: lapsing from that, it became a mere battle of ugly appetites.
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