Mary Stuart or Mary Stewart may refer to:
To plant a garden is the chief of the arts of peace.
Every life has a death, and every light a shadow. Be content to stand in the light, and let the shadow fall where it will.
It is not true that women cannot keep secrets. Where they love, they can be trusted to death and beyond, against all sense and reason. It is their weakness, and their great strength.
Have you ever thought, when something dreadful happens, 'a moment ago things were not like this; let it be then, not now, anything but now'? And you try and try to remake then, but you know you can't. So you try to hold the moment quite still and not let it move on and show itself.
I had always been content to know that there was more in the living world than we could hope to understand.
Perhaps loneliness had nothing to do with place or circumstance; perhaps it was in you; yourself. Perhaps, wherever you were, you took your little circle of loneliness with you.
It seems to me you can be awfully happy in this life if you stand aside and watch and mind your own business, and let other people do as they like about damaging themselves and one another. You go on kidding yourself that you're impartial and tolerant and all that, then all of a sudden you realize you're dead, and you've never been alive at all.
You never know how you'll turn out till you've been down to half a dollar and no prospects.
Where two Greeks are gathered together, there will be at least three political parties represented, and possibly more.
But I have noticed this about ambitious men, or men in power, that they fear even the slightest and least likely threat to it.
I knew that I had turned my world back to cinders, sunk my lovely ship with my own stupid, wicked hands.
I can say 'reduce your stress level' until I'm blue in the face.
Well, what was luck for if it was never to be tempted?
There are few men more superstitious than soldiers. They are, after all, the men who live closest to death.
I suppose one gets to know men quickest by the things they take for granted.
The place for truth is not in the facts of a novel; it is in the feelings.
There are such people, unfortunates who have to be angry before they can feel alive. I had sometimes wondered if it were some old relic of pagan superstition, the fear of risking the jealousy and anger of the gods, that made such people afraid of even small happinesses. Or perhaps it was only that tragedy is more self-important than laughter.
the difficult art I was attempting had, indeed a powerful fascination, before which the past faded, the future receded, and the whole of experience narrowed down to this stretch of glancing, glimmering water, and the fly I was trying to cast across it.
I reached for sleep and drew it round me like a blanket muffling pain and thought together in the merciful dark
I'm very much to blame for not seeing it before, but who on earth goes about suspecting an impossible outlandish thing like murder? That's something that happens in books, not among people you know.