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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.
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
Never
Six
Atheism
Boys
Spasm
Week
Fable
Quite
Lasted
Since
Swallowed
Religion
Fables
Christian
Weeks
More quotes by George Meredith
God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman!
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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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A witty woman is a treasure a witty beauty is a power.
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It's past parsons to console us: No, nor no doctor fetch for me: I can die without my bolus Two of a trade, lass, never agree! Parson and Doctor!--don't they love rarely Fighting the devil in other men's fields! Stand up yourself and match him fairly: Then see how the rascal yields!
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Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts.
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Heiresses are never jilted.
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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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Jealousy is love bed of burning snarl.
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Sentimentalists are they who seek to enjoy without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done.
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Perfect simplicity is unconsciously audacious.
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Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
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What a woman thinks of women is the test of her nature.
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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 most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.
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The song seraphically free Of taint of personality, So pure that it salutes the suns The voice of one for millions, In whom the millions rejoice For giving their one spirit voice.
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George Eliot has the heart of Sappho but the face, with the long proboscis, the protruding teeth of the Apocalyptic horse, betrayed animality.
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Full lasting is the song, though he, / The singer, passes.
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The well of true wit is truth itself.
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A human act once set in motion flows on forever to the great account. Our deathlessness is in what we do, not in what we are.
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