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We do not want to think. We do not want to hear. We do not care about anything. Only give us a good dinner and plenty of money, and let us outshine our neighbors. There is the Nineteenth Century Gospel.

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
Money
Neighbors
Give
Gospel
Care
Neighbor
Anything
Plenty
Giving
Dinner
Good
Comfort
Think
Century
Outshine
Thinking
Hear
Nineteenth

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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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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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Hypocrites weep, and you cannot tell their tears from those of saints but no bad man ever laughed sweetly yet.
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Youth without faith is a day without sun.
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Women hope that the dead love may revive but men know that of all dead things none are so past recall as a dead passion.
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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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It is the north wind that lashes men into Vikings it is the soft, luscious south wind which lulls them to lotus dreams.
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It is hard work to be good when you are very little and very hungry, and have many sticks to beat you, and no mother's lips to kiss you.
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No great talker ever did any great thing yet, in this world.
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There is a self-evident axiom, that she who is born a beauty is half married.
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Who has passed by the fates of disillusion has died twice.
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Take hope from the heart of man, and you make him a beast of prey.
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Opposition to a man in love is like oil to fire.
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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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The joy of a strong nature is as cloudless as its suffering is desolate.
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We only see clearly when we have reached the depths of woe.
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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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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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Charity is a flower not naturally of earthly growth, and it needs manuring with a promise of profit.
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Dishonor is like the Aaron's Beard in the hedgerows it can only poison if it be plucked.
Ouida