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The heart of silver falls ever into the hands of brass. The sensitive herb is eaten as grass by the swine.
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
Grass
Herb
Destiny
Swine
Fall
Brass
Hands
Herbs
Ever
Eaten
Heart
Falls
Silver
Sensitive
More quotes by Ouida
One must pray first, but afterwards one must help oneself. God does not care for cowards.
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Christianity has been cruel in much to the human race. It has quenched much of the sweet joy and gladness of life it has caused the natural passions and affections of it to be held as sins.
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Emulation is active virtue envy is brooding malice.
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It is only to those who have never lived that death ever can seems beautiful.
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A little scandal is an excellent thing nobody is ever brighter or happier of tongue than when he is making mischief of his neighbors.
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It needs a great nature to bear the weight of a great gratitude.
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Friendship is such an elastic word. There never was an age when it stood for so many things in private, and was yet so absolutely non-existent in fact.
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A just chastisement may benefit a man, though it seldom does but an unjust one changes all his blood to gall.
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Sport inevitably creates deadness of feeling. No one could take pleasure in it who was sensitive to suffering and therefore its pursuit by women is much more to be regretted than its pursuit by men, because women pursue much more violently and recklessly what they pursue at all.
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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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No great talker ever did any great thing yet, in this world.
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Take hope from the heart of man, and you make him a beast of prey.
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for what is the gift of the poet and the artist except to see the sights which others cannot see and to hear the sounds that others cannot hear?
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Fancy tortures more people than does reality
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Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.
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Power is sweet, and when you are a little clerk you love its sweetness quite as much as if you were an emperor, and maybe you love it a good deal more.
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It is a kind of blindness--poverty. We can only grope through life when we are poor, hitting and maiming ourselves against every angle.
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I have known men who have been sold and bought a hundred times, who have only got very fat and very comfortable in the process of exchange.
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There is a self-evident axiom, that she who is born a beauty is half married.
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Great men always have dogs.
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