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you are absolutely the most ethereal, least sensual woman I ever knew to exist without inhuman sexlessness.

Thomas Hardy

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Thomas Hardy
Age: 87 †
Born: 1840
Born: June 2
Died: 1928
Died: January 28
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Dorchester
Dorset
Woman
Ever
Ethereal
Without
Inhuman
Sensual
Absolutely
Exist
Knew
Least

More quotes by Thomas Hardy

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Beauty lay not in the thing, but in what the thing symbolized.
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It was terribly beautiful to Tess today, for since her eyes last fell upon it she had learnt that the serpent hisses where the sweet birds sing.
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The beauty or ugliness of a character lay not only in its achievements, but in its aims and impulses its true history lay, not among things done, but among things willed.
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So do flux and reflux--the rhythm of change--alternate and persist in everything under the sky.
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The value of old age depends upon the person who reaches it. To some men of early performance it is useless. To others, who are late to develop, it just enables them to finish the job.
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Measurement of life should be proportioned rather to the intensity of the experience than to its actual length.
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They spoke very little of their mutual feeling pretty phrases and warm expressions being probably unnecessary between such tried friends.
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There are accents in the eye which are not on the tongue, and more tales come from pale lips than can enter an ear. It is both the grandeur and the pain of the remoter moods that they avoid the pathway of sound.
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War makes good history but peace is poor reading.
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Some women's love of being loved is insatiable and so, often, is their love of loving and in the last case they may find that they can't give it continuously to the chamber-officer appointed by the bishop's license to receive it.
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It was then that the ecstasy and the dream began, in which emotion was the matter of the universe, and matter but an adventitious intrusion likely to hinder you from spinning where you wanted to spin.
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You could sometimes see her twelfth year in her cheeks, or her ninth sparkling from her eyes and even her fifth would flit over the curves of her mouth now and then.
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The sky was clear - remarkably clear - and the twinkling of all the stars seemed to be but throbs of one body, timed by a common pulse.
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Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?
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It was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity
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Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess? Yes. All like ours? I don't know, but I think so. They sometimes seem to be like the apples on our stubbard-tree. Most of them splendid and sound - a few blighted. Which do we live on - a splendid one or a blighted one? A blighted one.
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I have felt lately, more and more, that my present way of living is bad in every respect.
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Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change.
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Nobody had beheld the gravitation of the two into one
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Where we are would be Paradise to me, if you would only make it so.
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