When one illusion vanishes, another shall appear, and, still leading me forward towards an horizon that retreats as I advance, the happy… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
I find the love of garden grows upon me as I grow older more and more. Shrubs and flowers and such small… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
Love occupies a vast space in a woman's thoughts, but fills a small portion in a man's life. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
“My dear, you will be woefully disappointed if in my story you expect any thing like a novel. I once heard a… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
half the good intentions of my life have been frustrated by my unfortunate habit of putting things off till to-morrow. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
Our pleasures in literature do not, I think, decline with age; last 1st of January was my eighty-second birthday, and I think… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
There are two sorts of content; one is connected with exertion, the other with habits of indolence. The first is a virtue; the other,… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
We may make our future by the best use of the present. There is no moment like the present. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
Books only spoil the originality of genius. Very well for those who can't think for themselves - But when one has made up one's… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
“I can but just recollect having been amused at the Theatres, and the Opera, and the Pantheon, and Ranelagh, and all those places, for… — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
Fortune's wheel never stands still the highest point is therefore the most perilous. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
How is it that hope so powerfully excites, and fear so absolutely depresses all our faculties? — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
Sir Patrick Rackrent lived and died a monument of old Irish hospitality. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
In real friendship the judgment, the genius, the prudence of each party become the common property of both. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
According to the Asiatics, Cupid's bow is strung with bees which are apt to sting, sometimes fatally, those who meddle with it. — Maria Edgeworth Copy Share Image
