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When passion and habit long lie in company it is only slowly and with incredulity that habit awakens to finds its companion fled, itself alone.
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
Alone
Passion
Incredulity
Company
Awakens
Lying
Fled
Long
Companion
Slowly
Finds
Habit
More quotes by Ouida
There is a chord in every heart that has a sigh in it if touched aright.
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Genius scorns the power of gold: it is wrong. Gold is the war-scythe on its chariot, which mows down the millions of its foes, and gives free passage to the sun-coursers with which it leaves those heavenly fields of light for the gross battlefields of earth.
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Fame has only the span of the day, they say. But to live in the hearts of people-that is worth something.
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Youth without faith is a day without sun.
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It needs a great nature to bear the weight of a great gratitude.
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Count art by gold, and it fetters the feet it once winged.
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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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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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Opposition to a man in love is like oil to fire.
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The art of pleasing is more based on the art of seeming pleased than people think of, and she disarmed the prejudices of her enemies by the unaffected delight she appeared to take in themselves.
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Great men always have dogs.
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What we love once, we love forever. Shall there be joy in heaven over those who repent, yet no forgiveness for them upon earth? --Wanda
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Familiarity is a magician that is cruel to beauty but kind to ugliness.
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Belief of some sort is the lifeblood of Art.
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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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Emulation is active virtue envy is brooding malice.
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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.
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There is nothing that you may not get people to believe in if you will only tell it them loud enough and often enough, till the welkin rings with it.
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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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