The Project Gutenberg EBook of Quotes and Images From The Works of Gilbert Parker, by Gilbert Parker This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Quotes and Images From The Works of Gilbert Parker Author: Gilbert Parker Edited and Arranged by David Widger Release Date: August 27, 2004 [EBook #7553] [Last updated on February 19, 2007] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUOTES FROM PARKER *** Produced by David Widger
A human life he held to be a trifle in the big sum of time A heart-break for that kind is their salvation A man may be forgiven for a sin, but the effect remains A look too bright for joy, too intense for despair A sort of chuckle not entirely pleasant A man you could bank on, and draw your interest reg'lar A left-handed boy is all right in the world A cloak of words to cover up the real thought behind Aboriginal in all of us, who must have a sign for an emotion Aboriginal dispersion Adaptability was his greatest weapon in life Advantage to live where nothing was required of her but truth After which comes steady happiness or the devil to pay (wedding) Agony in thinking about the things we're never going to do Ah, let it be soon! Ah, let him die soon! Air of certainty and universal comprehension All humour in him had a strain of the sardonic All genius is at once a blessing or a curse All the world's mad but thee and me All men are worse than most women All is fair where all is foul All he has to do is to be vague, and look prodigious (Scientist) All are hurt some time Always hoping the best from the worst of us Always calling to something, for something outside ourselves An inner sorrow is a consuming fire And even envy praised her Anger was the least injurious of all grounds for separation Answered, with the indifference of despair Antipathy of the lesser to the greater nature Antipathy of the man in the wrong to the man in the right As if our penalties were only paid by ourselves! At first—and at the last—he was kind Ate some coffee-beans and drank some cold water Audience that patronisingly listens outside a room or window Awkward for your friends and gratifying to your enemies Babbling covers a lot of secrets Bad turns good sometimes, when you know the how Begin to see how near good is to evil Beginning of a lifetime of experience, comedy, and tragedy Being tired you can sleep, and in sleep you can forget Being generous with other people's money Being young, she exaggerated the importance of the event Being a man of very few ideas, he cherished those he had Beneath it all there was a little touch of ridicule Boldness without rashness, and hope without vain thinking But I don't think it is worth doing twice But to pay the vulgar penalty of prison—ah! But a wounded spirit who can bear But the years go on, and friends have an end Came of a race who set great store by mothers and grandmothers Carrying with him the warm atmosphere of a good woman's love Cherish any alleviating lie Clever men are trying Cling to beliefs long after conviction has been shattered Confidence in a weak world gets unearned profit often Conquest not important enough to satisfy ambition Counsel of the overwise to go jolting through the soul Courage which awaits the worst the world can do Courage; without which, men are as the standing straw Credulity, easily transmutable into superstition Damnable propinquity Dangerous man, as all enthusiasts are Death is not the worst of evils Death is a magnificent ally; it untangles knots Delicate revenge which hath its hour with every man Did not let him think that she was giving up anything for him Do what you feel you've got to do, and never mind what happens Does any human being know what he can bear of temptation Don't go at a fence till you're sure of your seat Don't be a bigger fool than there's any need to be Don't be too honest Down in her heart, loves to be mastered Duplicity, for which she might never have to ask forgiveness Each of us will prove himself a fool given perfect opportunity Egotism with which all are diseased Egregious egotism of young love there are only two identities Engrossed more, it seemed, in the malady than in the man Enjoy his own generosity Even bad company's better than no company at all Every true woman is a mother, though she have no child Every man should have laws of his own Every shot that kills ricochets Evil is half-accidental, half-natural Face flushed with a sort of pleasurable defiance Fascinating colour which makes evil appear to be good Fear a woman are when she hates, and when she loves Fear of one's own wife is the worst fear in the world Flood came which sweeps away the rust that gathers in the eyes Follow me; if I retreat, kill me; if I fall, avenge me For a man having work to do, woman, lovely woman, is rocks Freedom is the first essential of the artistic mind Frenchman, volatile, moody, chivalrous, unreasonable Frenchman, slave of ideas, the victim of sentiment Friendship means a giving and a getting Futility of goodness, the futility of all Future of those who will not see, because to see is to suffer Good fathers think they have good daughters Good is often an occasion more than a condition Good thing for a man himself to be owed kindness Grove of pines to give a sense of warmth in winter Grow more intense, more convinced, more thorough, as they talk Had the luck together, all kinds and all weathers Had the slight flavour of the superior and the paternal Had got unreasonably old Have not we all something to hide—with or without shame? Have you ever felt the hand of your own child in yours He had neither self-consciousness nor fear He admired, yet he wished to be admired He hated irony in anyone else He was not always sorry when his teasing hurt He felt things, he did not study them He was in fact not a philosopher, but a sentimentalist He had only made of his wife an incident in his life He didn't always side with the majority He does not love Pierre; but he does not pretend to love him He was strong enough to admit ignorance He has wheeled his nuptial bed into the street He had had acquaintances, but never friendships, and never loves He had no instinct for vice in the name of amusement He left his fellow-citizens very much alone He never saw an insult unless he intended to avenge it He had tasted freedom; he was near to license He borrowed no trouble He wishes to be rude to some one, and is disappointed He's a barber-shop philosopher Heaven where wives without number awaited him Her sight was bounded by the little field where she strayed Her voice had the steadiness of despair Her stronger soul ruled him without his knowledge Her own suffering always set her laughing at herself Highsterics, they call it His courtesy was not on the same expansive level as his vanity His duties were many, or he made them so His gift for lying was inexpressible Honesty was a thing he greatly desired—in others How little we can know to-day what we shall feel tomorrow How can one force one's heart? No, no! One has to wait How many sons have ever added to their father's fame? How many conquests have been made in the name of God How can you judge the facts if you don't know the feeling? Hugging the chain of denial to his bosom Hunger for happiness is robbery I love that love in which I married him I was never good at catechism I said I was not falling in love—I am in love I am only myself when I am drunk I have a good memory for forgetting I don't wish to fit in; things must fit me I like when I like, and I like a lot when I like I always did what was wrong, and liked it—nearly always I should remember to forget it I don't believe in walking just for the sake of walking I don't think. I'm old enough to know I can't pay you for your kindness to me, and I don't want to I had to listen to him, and he had to pay me for listening I was born insolent I—couldn't help it If you have a good thought, act on it If one remembers, why should the other forget If women hadn't memory, she answered, they wouldn't have much If fumbling human fingers do not meddle with it Illusive hopes and irresponsible deceptions Imagination is at the root of much that passes for love Importunity with discretion was his motto In all secrets there is a kind of guilt In her heart she never can defy the world as does a man Inclined to resent his own insignificance Instinct for detecting veracity, having practised on both sides Interfere with people who had a trade and didn't understand it Irishmen have gifts for only two things—words and women Is the habit of good living mere habit and mere acting It is hard to be polite to cowards It is not Justice that fills the gaols, but Law It is not the broken heart that kills, but broken pride It is good to live, isn't it? It is difficult to be idle—and important too It is not much to kill or to die—that is in the game It isn't what they do, it's what they don't do It ain't for us to say what we're goin' to be, not always It is easy to repent when our pleasures have palled It's the people who try to be clever who never are It's no good simply going—you've got to go somewhere Jews everywhere treated worse than the Chinaman Joy of a confessional which relieves the sick heart Kissed her twice on the cheek—the first time in fifteen years Knew the lie of silence to be as evil as the lie of speech Knew when to shut his eyes, and when to keep them open Know how bad are you, and doesn't mind Knowing that his face would never be turned from me Lacks a balance-wheel. He has brains, but not enough Law. It is expensive whether you win or lose Learned what fools we mortals be Learned, as we all must learn, that we live our dark hour alone Let others ride to glory, I'll shoe their horses for the gallop Liars all men may be, but that's wid wimmin or landlords Life is only futile to the futile Lighted candles in hollowed pumpkins Likenesses between the perfectly human and the perfectly animal Lilt of existence lulling to sleep wisdom and tried experience Liquor makes me human Live and let live is doing good Lonely we come into the world, and lonely we go out of it Longed to touch, oftener than they did, the hands of children Lose their heads, and be so absurdly earnest Love can outlive slander Love, too, is a game, and needs playing Love knows not distance; it hath no continent Love has nothing to do with ugliness or beauty, or fortune Lyrical in his enthusiasms Man who tells the story in a new way, that is genius Man grows old only by what he suffers, and what he forgives Man or woman must not expect too much out of life May be more beautiful in uncertain England than anywhere else Meditation is the enemy of action Memory is man's greatest friend and worst enemy Men and women are unwittingly their own executioners Men feel surer of women than women feel of men Men do not steal up here: that is the unpardonable crime Men must have their bad hours alone Men are like dogs—they worship him who beats them Men are shy with each other where their emotions are in play Miseries of this world are caused by forcing issues Missed being a genius by an inch Monotonously intelligent More idle than wicked Most honest thing I ever heard, but it's not the most truthful Most important lessons of life—never to quarrel with a woman Mothers always forgive My excuses were making bad infernally worse Mystery is dear to a woman's heart Nature twists in back, or anywhere, gets a twist in's brain too Nervous legs at a gallop Never believed that when man or woman said no that no was meant Never looked to get an immense amount of happiness out of life Never to be content with superficial reasons and the obvious Never give up your soul to things only, keep it for people No note of praise could be pitched too high for Elizabeth No, I'm not good—I'm only beautiful No news—no trouble No virtue in not falling, when you're not tempted No past that is hidden has ever been a happy past No man so simply sincere, or so extraordinarily prejudiced Noise is not battle Not good to have one thing in the head all the time Not content to do even the smallest thing ill Not to show surprise at anything Nothing so good as courage, nothing so base as the shifting eye Nothing is futile that is right Nothing so popular for the moment as the fall of a favourite Of those who hypnotize themselves, who glow with self-creation Of course I've hated, or I wouldn't be worth a button Often called an invention of the devil (Violin) Often, we would rather be hurt than hurt One does the work and another gets paid One always buys back the past at a tremendous price One doesn't choose to worry One favour is always the promise of another Only the supremely wise or the deeply ignorant who never alter Oriental would think not less of him for dissimulation Paradoxes which make for laughter—and for tears Passion to forget themselves Pathetically in earnest People who are clever never think of trying to be Philosophers are often stupid in human affairs Philosophy which could separate the petty from the prodigious Political virtue goes unrewarded Prepared for a kiss this hour and a reproach the next Preserved a marked unconsciousness Protest that it is right when it knows that it is wrong Put the matter on your own hearthstone Queer that things which hurt most can't be punished by law Rack of secrecy, the cruelest inquisition of life Reading a lot and forgetting everything Reconciling the preacher and the sinner, as many another has Religion to him was a dull recreation invented chiefly for women Remember the sorrow of thine own wife Remember your own sins before you charge others Rewarded for its mistakes Romance is an incident to a man Sacrifice to the god of the pin-hole Sardonic pleasure in the miseries of the world Saw how futile was much competition Saying uncomfortable things in a deferential way Scoundrel, too weak to face the consequences of his sin Secret of life: to keep your own commandments Self-will, self-pride, and self-righteousness were big in him She lacked sense a little and sensitiveness much She was not to be forced to answer his arguments directly She knew what to say and what to leave unsaid She was beginning to understand that evil is not absolute She valued what others found useless She wasn't young, but she seemed so She had not suffered that sickness, social artifice She had provoked love, but had never given it She had never stooped to conquer Should not make our own personal experience a law unto the world Shure, if we could always be 'about the same,' we'd do Simply to have death renewed every morning Slander ever scorches where it touches Slow-footed hours wandered by, leaving apathy in their train Smiling was part of his equipment So say your prayers, believe all you can, don't ask questions Solitude fixes our hearts immovably on things Some people are rough with the poor—and proud Some wise men are fools, one way or another Some are hurt in one way and some in another Sometimes the longest way round is the shortest way home Soul tortured through different degrees of misunderstanding Spurting out little geysers of other people's cheap wisdom Still the end of your existence, I rejoined—to be amused? Strike first and heal after—"a kick and a lick" Struggle of conscience and expediency Surely she might weep a little for herself Suspicion, the bane of sick old age Sympathy, with curiousness in their eyes and as much inhumanity Sympathy and consolation might be much misplaced Thanked him in her heart for the things he had left unsaid That anxious civility which beauty can inspire That iceberg which most mourners carry in their breasts That he will find the room empty where I am not The Government cherish the Injin much in these days The Injin speaks the truth, perhaps—eye of red man multiplies The blind tyranny of the just The soul of goodness in things evil The higher we go the faster we live The gods made last to humble the pride of men—there was rum The world never welcomes its deserters The furious music of death and war was over The tender care of a woman—than many pharmacopoeias The beginning of the end of things was come for him The ravings of a sick man are not always counted ravings The friendship of man is like the shade of the acacia The sea is a great breeder of friendship The vague pain of suffered indifference The soul is a great traveller The happy scene of the play before the villain comes in The threshold of an acknowledged love The Barracks of the Free The real business of life is trying to understand each other The world is not so bad as is claimed for it The temerity and nonchalance of despair There is nothing so tragic as the formal There are things we repent of which cannot be repaired There is something humiliating in even an undeserved injury There should be written the one word, "Wait" There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world There was never a grey wind but there's a greyer There is no influence like the influence of habit There is no habit so powerful as the habit of care of others There's no credit in not doing what you don't want to do These little pieces of art make life possible They think that if a vote's worth having it's worth paying for They whose tragedy lies in the capacity to suffer greatly Things in life git stronger than we are Things that once charmed charm less Think with the minds of twelve men, and the heart of one woman Think that a woman gives the heart for pleasant weather only? Think of our position Thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart Time when she should and when she should not be wooed Time is the test, and Time will have its way with me Time a woman most yearns for a man is when she has refused him To die without whining To be popular is not necessarily to be contemptible To sorrow may their humour be a foil To-morrow is no man's gift Touch of the fantastic, of the barbaric, in all genius Training in the charms of superficiality Tricks played by Fact to discredit the imagination Triumph of Oriental duplicity over Western civilisation Truth waits long, but whips hard Tyranny of the little man, given a power Undisciplined generosity Untamed by the normal restraints of a happy married life Uses up your misery and makes you tired (Work) Vanity is the bane of mankind Vanity of successful labour Vanity; and from this much feminine hatred springs Very severe on those who do not pretend to be good Visions of the artistic temperament—delight and curse War is cruelty, and none can make it gentle Was not civilisation a mistake We don't live in months and years, but just in minutes We want to get more out of life than there really is in it We want every land to do as we do; and we want to make 'em do it We grow away from people against our will We are only children till we begin to make our dreams our life We care so little for real justice We do what we forbid ourselves to do We suffer the shames we damn in others We must live our dark hours alone We speak with the straight tongue; it is cowards who lie We'll lave the past behind us What fools there are in the world What is gone is gone. Graves are idolatry What is crime in one country, is virtue in another What a nice mob you press fellows are—wholesale scavengers What'll be the differ a hundred years from now Whatever has been was a dream; whatever is now is real When a child is born the mother also is born again When you strike your camp, put out the fires When God permits, shall man despair? When a man laugh in the sun and think nothing of evil Where the light is darkness Where I should never hear the voice of the social Thou must Who knows! Who can understand a woman? Who get a morbid enjoyment out of misery Who say 'God bless you' in New York! They say 'Damn you!' Who never knew self-consciousness Wit is always at the elbow of want Without the money brains seldom win alone Woman's deepest right and joy and pain in one—to comfort Women only admitted to Heaven by the intercession of husbands Women are half saints, half fools Women may leave you in the bright days Women don't go by evidence, but by their feelings World was only the size of four walls to a sick person Worth while to have lived so long and to have seen so much Would look back and not remember that she had a childhood You went north towards heaven and south towards hell You have lost your illusions You never can really overtake a newspaper lie You can't take time as the measure of life You cannot live long enough to atone for that impertinence You do not shout dinner till you have your knife in the loaf You never can make a scandal less by trying to hide it You've got blind rashness, and so you think you're bold You've got to be ready, that's all You—you all were so ready to suspect Youth hungers for the vanities Youth is the only comrade for youth Youth's a dream, middle age a delusion, old age a mistake
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