Sympathetic people often don't communicate well, they back reflected images which hide their own depths.

Ingenious philosophers tell you, perhaps, that the great work of the steam-engine is to create leisure for mankind. Do not believe them; it only creates a vacuum for eager thought to rush in.

Fine art, poetry, that kind of thing, elevates a nation.

It is a sad weakness in us, after all, that the thought of a man's death hallows him anew to us; as if life were not sacred too.

Much of our waking experience is but a dream in the daylight.

That farewell kiss which resembles greeting, that last glance of love which becomes the sharpest pang of sorrow.

To be candid, in Middlemarch phraseology, meant, to use an early opportunity of letting your friends know that you did not take a cheerful view of their capacity, their conduct, or their position; and a robust candor never waited to be asked for its opinion.