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We who have seen Italia in the throes,Half risen but to be hurled to ground, and now,Like a ripe field of wheat where once drove plough,All bounteous as she is fair, we think of thoseWho blew the breath of life into her frame:Cavour, Mazzini, Garibaldi: Three:Her Brain, her Soul, her Sword; and set her freeFrom ruinous discords, with one lustrous aim.
-George Meredith
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Age
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Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!
-George Meredith
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Art
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Caricature is rough truth.
-George Meredith
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Certainty
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Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul when hot for certainties in this our life!
-George Meredith
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Common Sense
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That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!
-George Meredith
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Conversation
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Speech is the small change of silence.
-George Meredith
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Cooking, Culinary
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Kissing don't last: cookery do!
-George Meredith
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Cynicism
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Cynicism is intellectual dandyism.
-George Meredith
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Death
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A human act once set in motion flows on forever to the great account. Our deathlessness is in what we do, not in what we are.
-George Meredith
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Duty
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Possession without obligation to the object possessed approaches felicity.
-George Meredith
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Envy / Jealousy
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Jealousy is love bed of burning snarl.
-George Meredith
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Gossip
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She poured a little social sewage into his ears.
-George Meredith
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Imagination
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The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.
-George Meredith
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Kisses
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A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave of a great flood that whirls me to the sea. But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly, and eat our pot of honey on the grave.
-George Meredith
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Legacy
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Memoirs are the backstairs of history.
-George Meredith
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Love
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The season of love is the carnival of egoism and it brings a touchstone to our natures.
-George Meredith
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Passion
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Passions spin the plot: We are betrayed by what is false within.
-George Meredith
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Sunset
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Sunrays, leaning on our southern hills and lighting
Wild cloud-mountains that drag the hills along,
Oft ends the day of your shifting brilliant laughter
Chill as a dull face frowning on a song.
Ay, but shows the South-west a ripple-feathered bosom
Blown to silver while the clouds are shaken and ascend
Scaling the mid-heavens as they stream, there comes a sunset
Rich, deep like love in beauty without end.
-George Meredith, Love in the Valley
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Women
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I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man.
-George Meredith
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Books by and about George Meredith