I can forgive, but I cannot forget, is only another way of saying, I will not forgive. Forgiveness ought to be like a cancelled note – torn in two, and burned up, so that it never can be shown against one.
HENRY WARD BEECHEROnes best success comes after their greatest disappointments.
More Henry Ward Beecher Quotes
-
-
Find out what your temptations are, and you will find out largely what you are yourself.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
All men are tempted. There is no man that lives that can’t be broken down, provided it is the right temptation, put in the right spot.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Christianity is simply the ideal form of manhood represented to us by Jesus Christ.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
You are not called to be a canary in a cage. You are called to be an eagle, and to fly sun to sun, over continents.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Next to victory, there is nothing so sweet as defeat, if only the right adversary overcomes you.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
To the great tree-loving fraternity we belong. We love trees with universal and unfeigned love, and all things that do grow under them or around them – the whole leaf and root tribe.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
No coffee can be good in the mouth that does not first send a sweet offering of odor to the nostrils.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
The best lessons a man ever learns are from his mistakes. It is not for want of schoolmasters that we are still ignorant.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Death is the Christian’s vacation morning. School is out. It is time to go home.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Well married a person has wings, poorly married shackles.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Leaves die, but trees do not. They only undress.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
A world without a Sabbath would be like a man without a smile, like summer without flowers, and like a homestead without a garden. It is the most joyous day of the week.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Laws are not masters but servants, and he rules them who obey them.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
Compassion will cure more sins than condemnation.
HENRY WARD BEECHER -
As warmth makes even glaciers trickle, and opens streams in the ribs of frozen mountains, so the heart knows the full flow and life of its grief only when it begins to melt and pass away.
HENRY WARD BEECHER