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George Eliot: Painted portraitPainted portraitFrançois D’Albert Durade · Public domain

George Eliot

Life dates: 1819 AD — 1880 AD

English novelist whose fiction asks readers to examine motives, sympathy and the effects of a judgment. Literary speakers and historical anthology attributions remain distinct.

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Life and writing

George Eliot was the pen name of Mary Ann Evans, the novelist identified by the National Portrait Gallery as living from 1819 to 1880. The gallery lists Middlemarch among her novels and describes its attention to social structures and personal disappointment. A profile gives this existing archive identity a grounded reading context; it does not turn the name attached to each anthology or contributor record into an independent authentication of that quotation.

In chapter LXXII of the linked Middlemarch, Dorothea responds to damaging talk about Lydgate by asking what people live for if not to ease one another’s difficulty. The question is spoken in a scene with other viewpoints, not presented as a detached command from the novelist. Read the neighbouring exchanges to see how sympathy competes with suspicion and caution. This checked comparison connects one retained anthology passage to related reading without claiming that the anthology used the same Caldwell printing.

Reading this voice

Begin with chapter LXXII and the surrounding discussion of Lydgate. The selected historical anthology entries preserve their printed signatures and independent references; the second concerns sympathy without an established location in this linked novel. There are 304 associated records, including 295 contributor entries that remain independently unverified. Profile lifetime dates are not composition dates or a change to the archive’s existing historical coordinates.

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Profile sources and editorial notes

Agent-assisted editorial profile, updated 2026-10-05. A human reviewer is not recorded. Biographical context does not independently authenticate every quotation attributed to this person.

  • National Portrait Gallery — George Eliot ↗

    Original limited factual paraphrase and documented lifetime. Modern biography text and images are not reproduced. Profile identity does not independently verify every associated quotation. Checked 2026-10-05.

  • Historical related reading — Middlemarch ↗

    Catalogue US-public-domain declaration and historical English text checked with retained download hashes. Original reading guidance distinguishes fictional voices, anthology provenance and limited passage comparisons. Checked 2026-10-05.

Quotations and sayings

01c. 1849 AD
I have never fully unbosomed myself to any human being; I have never been encouraged to trust much in the sympathy of my fellow men. But we have all a chance of meeting with some pity, some tenderness, some charity, when we are dead: it is the living only who cannot be forgiven - the living only from whom men's indulgence and reverence are held off, like the rain by the hard east wind. While the heart beats, bruise it - it is your only opportunity; while the eye can still turn towards you with moist, timid entreaty, freeze it with an icy unanswering gaze; while the ear, that delicate messenger to the inmost sanctuary of the soul, can still take in the tones of kindness, put it off with hard civility, or sneering compliment, or envious affectation of indifference; while the creative brain can still throb with the sense of injustice, with the yearning for brotherly recognition - make haste - oppress it with your ill-considered judgements, your trivial comparisons, your careless misrepresentations. The heart will by and by be still - ubi saeoa indignatio ulterius cor lacerate nequit; the eye will cease to entreat; the ear will be deaf; the brain will have ceased from all wants as well as from all work. Then your charitable speeches may find vent; then you may remember and pity the toil and the struggle and the failure; then you may give due honour to the work achieved; then you may find extenuation for errors, and may consent to bury them ("The Lifted Veil")
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02c. 1849 AD
Just as I am watching a tongue of blue flame rising in the fire, and my lamp is burning low, the horrible contraction will begin in my chest. I shall only have time to reach the bell, and pull it violently, before the sense of suffocation will come. No one will answer my bell. I know why. My two servants are lovers, and will have quarrelled. My housekeeper will have rushed out of the house in a fury, two hours before, hoping that Perry will believe she has gone to drown herself. Perry is alarmed at last, and is gone out after her. The little scullery-maid is asleep on a bench: she never answers the bell; it does not wake her. The sense of suffocation increases: my lamp goes out with a horrible stench: I make a great effort, and snatch at the bell again. I long for life, and there is no help. I thirsted for the unknown: the thirst is gone. 0 God, let me stay with the known, and be weary of it. I am content. Agony of pain and suffocation - and all the while the earth, the fields, the pebbly brook at the bottom of the rookery, the fresh scent after the rain, the light of the morning through my chamber window, the warmth of the hearth after the frosty air - will darkness close over them for ever?Darkness-darkness-no pain-nothing but darkness: but I am passing on and on through the darkness: my thought stays in the darkness, but always with a sense of moving onward ... ("The Lifted Veil")
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10c. 1849 AD
That is the way with us when we have any uneasy jealousy in our disposition: if our talents are chiefly of the burrowing kind, our honey-sipping cousin (whom we have grave reasons for objecting to) is likely to have a secret contempt for us, and any one who admires him passes an oblique criticism on ourselves. Having the scruples of rectitude in our souls, we are above the meanness of injuring him—rather we meet all his claims on us by active benefits; and the drawing of cheques for him, being a superiority which he must recognize, gives our bitterness a milder infusion.
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