The heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.
A woman's health is her capital.
O, with what freshness, what solemnity and beauty, is each new day born; as if to say to insensate man, Behold! thou hast one more chance! Strive for immortal glory!
I long to put the experience of fifty years at once into your young lives to give you at once the key to that treasure chamber every gem of which has cost me tears and struggles and prayers but you...
They will raise, and raise with them their mother's side.
«In my opinion, it is you considerate, humane men, that are responsible for all the brutality and outrage wrought by these wretches; because, if it were not for your sanction and influence, the whole...
The water of the river is the calmest, where the deepest.
It takes years and maturity to make the discovery that the power of faith is nobler than the power of doubt; and that there is a celestial wisdom in the ingenuous propensity to trust, which belongs to...
I've lost everything in this world, and it's clean gone, forever-- and now I can't lose heaven, too; no, I can't get to be wicked, besides all.
Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone...
And, perhaps, among us may be found generous spirits, who do not estimate honour and justice by dollars and cents.
'Cause I's wicked - I is. I's mighty wicked anyhow I can't help it.
لم يكن يفهم من كلمة لاجئ أكثر من أنها تتألف من أربعة حروف، أو أنها صورة بشعة كما تنشرها الصحف: رجل يحمل عصاه وجرابه ويتيه على وجهه، أمّا ما تحمله هذه الكلمة من بؤس حقيقي، أمّا العين البشرية الصارخة با...
In the midst of life we are in death,' said Miss Ophelia.
Many a humble soul will be amazed to find that the seed it sowed in weakness in the dust of daily life has blossomed into immortal flowers under the eye of the Lord.
Governments derive their just power from the consent of the governed
She was one of those busy creatures, that can be no more contained in one place than a sunbeam or a summer breeze
Well, said St. Clare, suppose that something shoul bring down the price of cotton once and forever, and make the whole slave property a drug in the market, don't you think we should soon have another...
But then his idea of a fugitive was only an idea of the letters that spell the word, - or at the most, the image of a little newspaper picture of a man with a stick and bundle with 'Ran away from the...
We never know how we love til we try to unlove!