Sure there's different roads from this to Dungarvan* - some thinks one road pleasanter, and some think another; wouldn't it be mighty foolish to quarrel for this? - and sure isn't it twice worse to thry to interfere with people… — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Tears fell from my eyes - yes, weak and foolish as it now appears to me, I wept for my departed youth; and for that beauty of which the faithful mirror too plainly assured me, no remnant existed. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Happiness is a rare plant that seldom takes root on earth-few ever enjoyed it, except for a brief period; the search after it is… — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
A beautiful woman without fixed principles may be likened to those fair but rootless flowers which float in streams, driven by every breeze. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
People seem to lose all respect for the past; events succeed each other with such velocity that the most remarkable one of a few… — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
A woman's head is always influenced by her heart, but a man's heart is always influenced by his head. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Listeners beware, for ye are doomed never to hear good of yourselves. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Satire, like conscience, reminds us of what we often wish to forget. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Religion converts despair, which destroys, into resignation, which submits. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
There are no persons capable of stooping so low as those who desire to rise in the world. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Flowers are the bright remembrances of youth; they waft us back, with their bland odorous breath, the joyous hours that only young life knows,… — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Spring is the season of hope, and autumn is that of memory. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
Those who are formed to win general admiration are seldom calculated to bestow individual happiness. — Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington Copy Share Image
