traditions that have lost their meaning are the hardest of all to destroy. Edith Wharton More Quotes by Edith Wharton More Quotes From Edith Wharton Everybody who does anything at all does too much. Edith Wharton too-much doe The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing. Edith Wharton breathing air inspiring What is one's personality, detached from that of the friends with whom fate happens to have linked one? I cannot think of myself apart from the influence of the two or three greatest friendships of my life, and any account of my own growth must be that of their stimulating and enlightening influence. Edith Wharton fate happiness thinking I couldn't have spoken like this yesterday, because when we've been apart, and I'm looking forward to seeing you, every thought is burnt up in a great flame. But then you come; and you're so much more than I remembered, and what I want of you is so much more than an hour or two every now and then, with wastes of thirsty waiting between, that I can sit perfectly still beside you, like this, with that other vision in my mind, just quietly trusting it to come true. Edith Wharton flames yesterday two The taste of the usual was like cinders in his mouth, and there were moments when he felt as if he were being buried alive under his future. Edith Wharton alive usual mouths I feel as if I could trust my happiness to carry me; as if it had grown out of me like wings. Edith Wharton feels wings happiness Damn words; they're just the pots and pans of life, the pails and scrubbing-brushes. I wish I didn't have to think in words. Edith Wharton wish pot thinking With a shiver of foreboding he saw his marriage becoming what most of the other marriages about him were: a dull association of material and social interests held together by ignorance on the one side and hypocrisy on the other. Edith Wharton hypocrisy ignorance together ..but it seemed to him that the tie between husband and wife, if breakable in prosperity, should be indissoluble in misfortune. Edith Wharton wife husband ties Dialogue in fiction should be reserved for the culminating moments and regarded as the spray into which the great wave of narrative breaks in curving towards the watcher on the shore. Edith Wharton narrative moments fiction Every house is a mad-house at some time or another. Edith Wharton mad house Life is made up of compromises. Edith Wharton compromise life-is made To be able to look life in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it? Edith Wharton able faces looks I discovered early that crying makes my nose red, and the knowledge has helped me through several painful episodes. Edith Wharton cry red noses The visible world is a daily miracle for those who have eyes and ears; and I still warm hands thankfully at the old fire, though every year it is fed with the dry wood of more old memories. Edith Wharton eye fire memories Do you know-I hardly remembered you? Edith Wharton remembered literature mean Society soon grows used to any state of things which is imposed upon it without explanation. Edith Wharton used society states Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, old age flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death. Edith Wharton leaves-of-grass age time There is someone I must say goodbye to. Oh, not you - we are sure to see each other again - but the Lily Bart you knew. I have kept her with me all this time, but now we are going to part, and I have brought her back to you - I am going to leave her here. When I go out presently she will not go with me. I shall like to think that she has stayed with you. Edith Wharton saying-goodbye goodbye thinking Is there nowhere in an American house where one may be by one's self? Edith Wharton reflection self house
