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Inkstands and tea-cups are never as full as when one upsets them.
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
Never
Upsets
Tea
Cups
Upset
Full
More quotes by Edith Wharton
There was no use in trying to emancipate a wife who had not the dimmest notion that she was not free.
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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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... naturalness is not always consonant with taste.
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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.
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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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Yes, one gets over things. But there are certain memories one can't bit on.
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But after a moment a sense of waste and ruin overcame him. There they were, close together and safe and shut in yet so chained to their separate destinies that they might as well been half the world apart.
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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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The worst of doing one's duty was that it apparently unfitted one for doing anything else.
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She was so evidently the victim of the civilization which had produced her, that the links of her bracelet seemed like manacles chaining her to her fate.
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[I]t's safer to be fond of dangerous people.
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But marriage is one long sacrifice.... Chapter 21, Medora Manson speaking to Newland Archer
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Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, old age flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.
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Misfortune had made Lily supple instead of hardening her, and a pliable substance is less easy to break than a stiff one.
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Poetry and art are the breath of life to her.
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Archer had always been inclined to think that chance and circumstance played a small part in shaping people's lots compared with their innate tendency to have things happen to them.
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[B]ut he had lived in a world in which, as he said, no one who loved ideas need hunger mentally.
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I have drunk of the wine of life at last, I have known the thing best worth knowing, I have been warmed through and through, never to grow quite cold again till the end.
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The real loneliness is living among all these kind people who only ask one to pretend!
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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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