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Brussels is a gay little city that lies as bright within its girdle of woodland as any butterfly that rests upon moss.
Ouida
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Ouida
Age: 69 †
Born: 1839
Born: January 1
Died: 1908
Died: January 25
Novelist
Writer
Bury St Edmunds
Suffolk
Marie Louise de la Ramée
Marie Louise Ramé
Marie Louise de la Ramee
Marie Louise Rame
Upon
Butterfly
Littles
Bright
Little
Gay
Girdle
Lies
Girdles
City
Woodland
Cities
Brussels
Within
Moss
Lying
Rests
More quotes by Ouida
Great men have always had dogs.
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Count art by gold, and it fetters the feet it once winged.
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The scorn of genius is the most arrogant and the most boundless of all scorn.
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To vice, innocence must always seem only a superior kind of chicanery.
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Hypocrites weep, and you cannot tell their tears from those of saints but no bad man ever laughed sweetly yet.
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Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.
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Scandals are like dandelion seeds--they are arrow-headed, and stick where they fall, and bring forth and multiply fourfold.
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Charity in various guises is an intruder the poor see often but courtesy and delicacy are visitants with which they are seldom honored.
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The joy of a strong nature is as cloudless as its suffering is desolate.
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Great men always have dogs.
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Youth without faith is a day without sun.
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There is a self-evident axiom, that she who is born a beauty is half married.
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Indifference is the invincible grant of the world.
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Dissimulation is the only thing that makes society possible without its amenities the world would be a bear-garden.
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Fame! it is the flower of a day, that dies when the next sun rises.
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A pipe is a pocket philosopher,--a truer one than Socrates, for it never asks questions. Socrates must have been very tiresome, when one thinks of it.
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Intensely selfish people are always very decided as to what they wish. They do not waste their energies in considering the good of others.
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Even of death Christianity has made a terror which was unknown to the gay calmness of the Pagan and the stoical repose of the Indian.
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We only see clearly when we have reached the depths of woe.
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There is a chord in every heart that has a sigh in it if touched aright.
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