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No insect hangs its nest on threads as frail as those which will sustain the weight of human vanity.
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
Sustain
Thread
Insect
Vanity
Threads
Weight
Hangs
Human
Nest
Humans
Frail
Nests
Insects
More quotes by Edith Wharton
To visit Morocco is still like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines.
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The visible world is a daily miracle, for those who have eyes and ears.
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traditions that have lost their meaning are the hardest of all to destroy.
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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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Yes, one gets over things. But there are certain memories one can't bit on.
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Life's just a perpetual piecing together of broken bits.
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What is one's personality, detached from that of the friends with whom fate happens to have linked one? I cannot think of myself apart from the influence of the two or three greatest friendships of my life, and any account of my own growth must be that of their stimulating and enlightening influence.
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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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Half the trouble in life is caused by pretending there isn't any.
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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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He bent and laid his lips on her hands, which were cold and lifeless. She drew them away, and he turned to the door, found his coat and hat under the faint gas-light of the hall, and plunged out into the winter night bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate.
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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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[I]t's safer to be fond of dangerous people.
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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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I was never allowed to read the popular American children's books of my day because, as my mother said, the children spoke bad English without the author's knowing it.
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There's no such thing as old age, there is only sorrow.
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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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... caprice is as ruinous as routine.
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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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It is almost as stupid to let your clothes betray that you know you are ugly as to have them proclaim that you think you are beautiful.
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