Quotes about Reflection
Poetry and art and knowledge are sacred and pure.
— George Eliot
For pain must enter into its glorified life of memory before it can turn into compassion.
— George Eliot
When death, the great Reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity.
— George Eliot
The memory has as many moods as the temper, and shifts its scenery like a diorama.
— George Eliot
We all remember epochs in our experience when some dear expectation dies, or some new motive is born.
— George Eliot
Who can know how much of his most inward life is made up of the thoughts he believes other men to have about him, until that fabric of opinion is threatened with ruin?
— George Eliot
When the commonplace We must all die transforms itself suddenly into the acute consciousness I must die-- and soon, then death grapples us, and his fingers are cruel; afterwards, he may come to fold us in his arms as our mother did, and our last moment of dim earthly discerning may be like the first.
— George Eliot
No, said Godfrey, with a keen decisiveness of tone, in contrast with his usually careless and unemphatic speech—there's debts we can't pay like money debts, by paying extra for the years that have slipped by. While I've been putting off and putting off, the trees have been growing—it's too late now. Marner was in the right in what he said about a man's turning away a blessing from his door: it falls to somebody else.
— George Eliot
When we are treated well, we naturally begin to think that we are not altogether unmeritous, and that it is only just we should treat ourselves well, and not mar our own good fortune.
— George Eliot
Even when she was speaking, her soul was in prayer reposing on an unseen support.
— George Eliot
That is beautiful mysticism, it is a—" "Please not to call it by any name," said Dorothea, putting out her hands entreatingly. "You will say it is Persian, or something geographical. It is my life. I have found it out and cannot part with it.
— George Eliot
What have you been doing lately?' 'I? Oh, minding the house—pouring out syrup—pretending to be amiable and contented—learning to have a bad opinion of everybody.
— George Eliot