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How many a thing which we cast to the ground, When others pick it up, becomes a gem!

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
Thing
Cast
Casts
Pick
Picks
Ground
Becomes
Others
Many
Gems

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Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious.
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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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Jealousy is love bed of burning snarl.
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Full lasting is the song, though he, / The singer, passes.
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God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman!
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Sentimentalists are they who seek to enjoy without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done.
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Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two.
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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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Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
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The man of science is nothing if not a poet gone wrong.
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When I was quite a boy I had a spasm of religion which lasted six weeks... But I never since have swallowed the Christian fable.
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Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts.
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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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The future not being born, my friend, we will abstain from baptizing it.
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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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A woman who is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if you are surely that. . .
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That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!
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Comedy is a game played to throw reflections upon social life, and it deals with human nature in the drawing-room of civilized men and women, where we have no dust of the struggling outer world, no mire, no violent crashes, to make the correctness of the representation convincing.
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Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank, The army of unalterable law.
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The well of true wit is truth itself.
George Meredith