Ann Radcliffe Quotes

One act of beneficence, one act of real usefulness, is worth all the abstract sentiment in the world.

I never trust people's assertions, I always judge of them by their actions.

To a generous mind few circumstances are more afflicting than a discovery of perfidy in those whom we have trusted.

How strange it is, that a fool or knave, with riches, should be treated with more respect by the world, than a good man, or a wise man in poverty!

Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable; always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.

There is no accounting for tastes.

When one can hear people moving, one does not so much mind, about one's fears.

There is some comfort in dying surrounded by one's children.

When the mind has once begun to yield to the weakness of superstition, trifles impress it with the force of conviction.

When justice happens to oppose prejudice, we are apt to believe it virtuous to disobey her.

What has a man's face to do with his character? Can a man of good character help having a disagreeable face?

Poverty cannot deprive us of many consolations. It cannot rob us of the affection we have for each other, or degrade us in our own opinion, of in that of any person, whose opinion we ought to value.

Never will I give my hand where my heart does not accompany it.

Happiness arises in a state of peace, not of tumult.

The passions are the seeds of vices as well as of virtues, from which either may spring, accordingly as they are nurtured. Unhappy they who have never been taught the art to govern them!

Employment is the surest antidote to sorrow.

To discover depravity in those whom we have loved, is one of the most exquisite tortures to a virtuous mind, and the conviction is often rejected before it is finally admitted.

Wisdom can boast no higher attainment than happiness.

But St. Aubert had too much good sense to prefer a charm to a virtue.

The refreshing pleasure from the first view of nature, after the pain of illness, and the confinement of a sick-chamber, is above the conceptions, as well as the descriptions, of those in health.

What is acquired without labor is seldom worth acquiring at all.

Virtue and taste are nearly the same, for virtue is little more than active taste, and the most delicate affections of each combine in real love.

Ignorance of true pleasure more frequently than temptation to that which is false, leads to vice.

Do you believe your heart to be, indeed, so hardened, that you can look without emotion on the suffering, to which you would condemn me?

Happiness has this essential difference from what is commonly called pleasure, that virtue forms its basis, and virtue being the offspring of reason, may be expected to produce uniformity of effect.

I wish that all those, who on this night are not merry enough to speak before they think, may ever after be grave enough to think before they speak!

There is some magic in wealth, which can thus make persons pay their court to it, when it does not even benefit themselves.

But no matter for that, you can be tolerably happy, perhaps, notwithstanding; but as for guessing how happy I am, or knowing anything about the matter,--- O! its quite beyond what you can understand.

There are some few instances in which it is virtuous to disobey.

It is dismal coming home, when there is nobody to welcome one!

I tasted too what was called the sweet of revenge - but it was transient, it expired even with the object, that provoked it.

How despicable is that humanity, which can be contented to pity, where it might assuage!

There is something in the ardour and ingenousness of youth, which is particularly pleasing to the contemplation of an old man, if his feelings have not been entirely corroded by the world.

Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns, And as the portal opens to receive me, A voice in hollow murmurs through the courts Tells of a nameless deed.

Vanity often produces unreasonable alarm.

Sentiment is a disgrace, instead of an ornament, unless it lead us to good actions.

When her mind was discomposed... a book was the opiate that lulled it to repose.