“ As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ The goldenrod is yellow,The corn is turning brown...The trees in apple orchardsWith fruit are bending down. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ If I could write a story that would do for the Indian one-hundredth part what 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' did for the Negro, I would be thankful the rest of my life. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ Who waits until the wind shall silent keep Will never find the ready hour to sow. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind. Helen Hunt Jackson
“ Wounded vanity knows when it is mortally hurt and limps off the field piteous all disguises thrown away. But pride carries its banner to the last and fast as it is driven from one field unfurls it… Helen Hunt Jackson
