Charles Reade (1814 – 1884)
English novelist and dramatist.
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Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows.
The fortunate man is he who, born poor, or nobody, works gradually up to wealth and consideration, and, having got them, dies before he finds they were not worth so much trouble.
…even Christians loved one another at first starting.
Art is not imitation but illusion.
Make 'em laugh; make 'em cry; make 'em wait.
What young woman is not, more or less, a mirror?
Lower a bucket into a well of self-deception, and what comes up must be immortal truth, mustn't it?
Well, every one for himself, and Providence for us all--as the elephant said when he danced among the chickens.
In players, vanity cripples art at every step.
Courage, mon ami, le diable est mort! / Take courage, my friend, the devil is dead!
Sow an act, and you reap a habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character, and you reap a destiny.
It must be confessed that a sort of halo of personal grandeur surrounds a great actress.
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