It was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity
Thomas HardyHe wished she knew his impressions; but he would as soon have thought of carrying an odour in a net as of attempting to convey the intangibilities of his feeling in the coarse meshes of language. So he remained silent.
Thomas HardySo do flux and reflux--the rhythm of change--alternate and persist in everything under the sky.
Thomas HardyThat mercy towards one set of creatures was cruelty towards another sickened his sense of harmony. As you got older, and felt yourself to be at the center of your time, and not at a point in its circumference, as you had felt when you were little, you were seized with a sort of shuddering, he perceived. All around you there seemed to be something glaring, garish, rattling, and the noises and glares hit upon the little cell called your life, and shook it, and warped it.
Thomas Hardy