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Fame nowadays is little else but notoriety.
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
Notoriety
Nowadays
Fame
Else
Littles
Little
More quotes by Ouida
Youth without faith is a day without sun.
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To vice, innocence must always seem only a superior kind of chicanery.
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The joy of a strong nature is as cloudless as its suffering is desolate.
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Great men have always had dogs.
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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 scorn of genius is the most arrogant and the most boundless of all scorn.
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Honor is an old-world thing but it smells sweet to those in whose hand it is strong.
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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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Dissimulation is the only thing that makes society possible without its amenities the world would be a bear-garden.
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Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.
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Great men always have dogs.
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You know the Ark of Israel and the calf of Belial were both made of gold. Religion has never yet changed the metal of her one adoration.
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The fire of true enthusiasm is like the fires of Baku, which no water can ever quench, and which burn steadily on from night to day, and year to year, because their well-spring is eternal.
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Dishonor is like the Aaron's Beard in the hedgerows it can only poison if it be plucked.
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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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Fancy tortures more people than does reality
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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.
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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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Hypocrites weep, and you cannot tell their tears from those of saints but no bad man ever laughed sweetly yet.
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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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