Silas Marner
1861
Silas Marner: The Weaver of Raveloe is a novel by George Eliot, published in 1861. It follows the story of Silas Marner, a reclusive linen weaver who, after experiencing betrayal and loss, isolates himself in the village of Raveloe. The narrative explores themes of isolation, the impact of wealth, and the potential for redemption through love and community, highlighting the transformative power of human connection amidst societal challenges of the 19th century.
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“Hurt, he'll never be hurt--he's made to hurt other people.””
— George Eliot
“In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child's.””
— George Eliot
“Perfect love has a breath of poetry which can exalt the relations of the least-instructed human beings.””
— George Eliot
“A man falling into dark waters seeks a momentary footing even on sliding stones.””
— George Eliot
“Nothing is so good as it seems beforehand.””
— George Eliot
“A child, more than all other giftsThat earth can offer to declining man,Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts."”
— George Eliot
“...There's nothing kills a man so soon as having nobody to find fault with but himself.””
— George Eliot
“When a man turns a blessing from his door, it falls to them as take it in.””
— George Eliot
“Even people whose lives have been made various by learning sometimes find it hard to keep a fast hold on their habitual views of life, on their faith in the Invisible - nay, on the sense that their past joys and sorrows are a real experience, when they are suddenly transported to a new land, where the beings around them know nothing of their history, and share none of their ideas - where their mother earth shows another lap, and human life has other forms than those on which their souls have been nourished. Minds that have been unhinged from their old faith and love have perhaps sought this Lethean influence of exile in which the past becomes dreamy because its symbols have all vanished, and the present too is dreamy because it is linked with no memories.””
— George Eliot
