Nobody holds a good opinion of a man who has a low opinion of himself.
Anthony TrollopeRead
Romance is very pretty in novels, but the romance of a life is always a melancholy matter. They are most happy who have no story to tell.
Interpretation
Romantic ideals are often more appealing in fiction than in reality, where true experiences can be bittersweet.
In this quote, Anthony Trollope reflects on the nature of romance in literature versus real life. While romantic tales can be enchanting in novels, the actual experiences of love and life often come with sorrow and complexity, suggesting that those who live without dramatic stories may find true happiness. This perspective invites readers to appreciate the simplicity of life over the embellished narratives found in stories.
In practice
In a speech about the contrast between literature and life experiences.
Nobody holds a good opinion of a man who has a low opinion of himself.
There is no happiness in love, except at the end of an English novel.
That I can read and be happy while I am reading, is a great blessing.
A man's love, till it has been chastened and fastened by the feeling of duty which marriage brings with it, is instigated mainly by the difficulty of pursuit.
But she knew this,βthat it was necessary for her happiness that she should devote herself to some one. All the elegancies and outward charms of life were delightful, if only they could be used as the means to some end. As an end themselves they were nothing.
Nothing surely is as potent as a law that may not be disobeyed. It has the force of the water drop that hollows the stone. A small dainty task, if it be really daily, will beat the labours of a spasmodic Hercules.
What the world needs is not 'a little bit of love', but a surgical operation.
Which of the two powers, Love or Music, can elevate man to the sublimest heights? ... It is a problem, and yet it seems to me that this is the answer: 'Love can give no idea of music; music can give an idea of love.' ... Why separate them? They are two wings of the soul.
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
The girl who I will marry will have a heart so wise that in the hollow of her eyes my heart will want to tarry. The girl who will be mine will have skin so soft and tender, and when it comes December, her skin will be my wine.
A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld,β The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies,β Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies.
sometimes what you miss the most is the way a loved one made you feel about yourself.
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