Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious. — Thomas Carlyle
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious. — Thomas Carlyle
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious. — Thomas Carlyle
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious. — Thomas Carlyle
Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious. — Thomas Carlyle
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Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious.

— Thomas Carlyle
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Goodness Mysterious Virtue

More “Goodness” Quotes

Light another’s path and the universe will light your own. — Matshona Dhliwayo
Trees generously share their fruit.Bees generously share their honey.Flowers generously share their perfume. Do likewise — Matshona Dhliwayo
God's grace is everything we need. The seed of all goodness. — Lailah Gifty Akita
If you rule the air, you are great; the waters, you are extraordinary; the lands, you are remarkable; but if you rule ov — Matshona Dhliwayo
Bless the world with your mind, heal the world with your heart, lift the world with your soul; elevate the world with yo — Matshona Dhliwayo
If you're not making someone else's life better, then you're wasting your time. Your life will become better by making o — Will Smith
Life isn't all grand, but it isn't all miserable either.  There's both sweet and sour in every day.  So why focus on the — Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway
Keep in mind that the reason you know you can be good to others is only because you've taken strides to be better for an — Alexandra Elle, Words from a Wanderer
Having friends was weird . . . but in a good way. — Gwenda Bond, Triple Threat
The world seems to want us to be sad and angry because bad things frequently happen. But I say we should feel the opposi — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
Happiness is not the Achievement of Dreams.It is the Path to Dreams. — Vineet Raj Kapoor
What a lovely thing a rose is!"He walked past the couch to the open window and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose — Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty