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Yes, you have been away a very long time.' 'Oh, centuries and centuries so long,' she said, 'that I'm sure I'm dead and buried and this dear old place is heaven.
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
Heaven
Away
Place
Centuries
Long
Buried
Time
Dear
Dead
Century
Sure
More quotes by Edith Wharton
The only way not to think about money is to have a great deal of it.
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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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The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything else.
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Her mind was an hotel where facts came and went like transient lodgers, without leaving their address behind, and frequently without paying for their board.
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Half the trouble in life is caused by pretending there isn't any.
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I don't know that I should care for a man who made life easy I should want some one who made it interesting.
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The value of books is proportionate to what may be called their plasticity -- their quality of being all things to all men, of being diversely moulded by the impact of fresh forms of thought.
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Archer reddened to the temples but dared not move or speak: it was as if her words had been some rare butterfly that the least motion might drive off on startled wings, but that might gather a flock if it were left undisturbed.
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Since the Americans have ceased to have dyspepsia, they have lost the only thing that gave them any expression.
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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.
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Her vivid smile was like a light held up to dazzle me.
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In every heart there should be one grief that is like a well in the desert.
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There's no such thing as old age, there is only sorrow.
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But marriage is one long sacrifice.... Chapter 21, Medora Manson speaking to Newland Archer
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Habit is necessary it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.
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One can remain alive ... if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity interested in big things and happy in small ways.
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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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They belonged to that vast group of human automata who go through life without neglecting to perform a single one of the gestures executed by the surrounding puppets.
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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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Yes, one gets over things. But there are certain memories one can't bit on.
Edith Wharton