Quotes by : George Moore

The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As....

Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells!

Ireland is a fatal disease fatal to Englishmen and doubly fatal to Irishmen.

This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given The smiles of joy the tears of woe Deceitful....

A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.

A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.

No place in England where everyone can go is considered respectable.

A literary movement consists of five or six people who live in the same town and hate each other cordially.....

The difficulty of life is in the choice.

Tis the last rose of summer. Left blooming alone.