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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.

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
Though
Daily
Eye
Warm
Hands
Miracle
Thankfully
Stills
Ears
Feds
Still
Memories
Wood
Every
Fire
Dry
Years
Eyes
Visible
World
Year
Woods

More quotes by Edith Wharton

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The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.
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Each time you happen to me all over again.
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People struggled on for years with 'troubles,' but they almost always succumbed to 'complications.
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there are lots of ways of answering a letter - and writing doesn't happen to be mine.
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Any rapidly enacted episode. . .should be seen through only one pair of eyes.
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Life has a way of overgrowing its achievements as well as its ruins.
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For what endless years this life will have to go on! He felt, with a kind of horror, his own strong youth and the bounding blood in his veins.
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I despair of the Republic! Such dreariness, such whining sallow women, such utter absence of the amenities, such crass food, crass manners, crass landscape!! What a horror it is for a whole nation to be developing without the sense of beauty, and eating bananas for breakfast.
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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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If proportion is the good breeding of architecture, symmetry, or the answering of one part to another, may be defined as the sanity of decoration.
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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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It was harder to drown at sunrise than in darkness.
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Don't they always go from bad to worse? There's no turning back--your old self rejects you, and shuts you out. ~Lilly Bart
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She seemed to melt against him in her terror, and he caught her in his arms, held her fast there, felt her lashes beat his cheek like netted butterflies.
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In the summer New York was the only place in which one could escape from New Yorkers.
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Inkstands and tea-cups are never as full as when one upsets them.
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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.
Edith Wharton
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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 is too much sour grapes for my taste in the present American attitude. The time to denounce the bankers was when we were all feeding off their gold plate not now! At present they have not only my sympathy but my preference. They are the last representatives of our native industries.
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I wonder why rich people always grow fat I suppose it's because there's nothing to worry them.
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