Men were not gods after all$$$ but as human and as clumsy as girls.
There is only a certain amount of kindness in the world…just as there is a certain amount of light. We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand$$$ and it is no good moving from place to place to save things…Choose a place where you won’t do very much harm and stand in it for all you are worth$$$ facing the sunshine.
When we were only acquaintances$$$ you let me be myself$$$ but now you're always protecting me... I won't be protected. I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right. To shield me is an insult. Can't I be trusted to face the truth but I must get it second-hand through you? A woman's place!
The kingdom of music is not the kingdom of this world; it will accept those whom breeding and intellect and culture have alike rejected. The commonplace person begins to play$$$ and shoots into the empyrean without effort$$$ whilst we look up$$$ marvelling how he has escaped us$$$ and thinking how we could worship him and love him$$$ would he but translate his visions into human words$$$ and his experiences into human actions. Perhaps he cannot; certainly he does not$$$ or does so very seldom.
I believed in a return to Nature once. But how can we return to Nature when we have never been with her? Today$$$ I believe that we must discover Nature. After many conquests we shall attain simplicity. It is our heritage.
My father says that there is only one perfect view — the view of the sky straight over our heads$$$ and that all these views on earth are but bungled copies of it.
Eccolo!” he exclaimed.At the same moment the ground gave way$$$ and with a cry she fell out of the wood. Light and beauty enveloped her. She had fallen on to a little open terrace$$$ which was covered with violets from end to end.“Courage!” cried her companion$$$ now standing some six feet above. “Courage and love.”She did not answer.
George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her$$$ as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face$$$ he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her.Before she could speak$$$ almost before she could feel$$$ a voice called 'Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!' The silence of life had been broken by Miss Bartlett$$$ who stood brown against the view.
It is so difficult - at least$$$ I find it difficult - to understand people who speak the truth.
She gave up trying to understand herself$$$ and the vast armies of the benighted$$$ who follow neither the heart nor the brain$$$ and march to their destiny by catch-words. The armies are full of pleasant and pious folk. But they have yielded to the only enemy that matters — the enemy within. They have sinned against passion and truth$$$ and vain will be their strife after virtue. As the years pass$$$ they are censured. Their pleasantry and their piety show cracks$$$ their wit becomes cynicism$$$ their unselfishness hypocrisy; they feel and produce discomfort wherever they go.