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That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!

George Meredith

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George Meredith
Age: 81 †
Born: 1828
Born: February 12
Died: 1909
Died: May 18
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Writer
Portsmouth
England
Rarest
Gift
Beauty
Common
Sense

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Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
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The future not being born, my friend, we will abstain from baptizing it.
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The well of true wit is truth itself.
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God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman!
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The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout to him golden shouts.
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Could I find a place to be alone with heaven, I would speak my heart out heaven is my need.
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Among the Diaries beginning with the second quarter of our century, there is frequent mention of a lady then becoming famous for her beauty and her wit: an unusual combination, in the deliberate syllables of one of the writers, who is, however, not disposed to personal irony when speaking of her.
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We are betrayed by what is false within
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There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.
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The stench of the trail of Ego in our History. It is ego - ego, the fountain cry, origin, sole source of war.
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Days, when the ball of our vision Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun When the graps on the bow was decision, And arrow and hand and eye were one When the Pleasures, like waves to a swimmer, Came heaving for rapture ahead! - Invoke them, they dwindle, they glimmer As lights over mounds of the dead.
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Published memoirs indicate the end of a man's activity, and that he acknowledges the end.
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Caricature is rough truth.
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How many a thing which we cast to the ground, When others pick it up, becomes a gem!
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Heiresses are never jilted.
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Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law.
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A house with a great wine stored below lives in our imagination as a joyful house, fast and splendidly rooted in the soil.
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Earth, the mother of all, Moves on her stedfast way, Gathering, flinging, sowing. Mortals, we live in her day, She in her children is growing.
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She [Comedy] it is who proposes the correcting of pretentiousness, of inflation, of dulness, and of the vestiges of rawness and grossness to be found among us. She is the ultimate civilizer, the polisher, a sweet cook.
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Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts.
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