It lies around us like a cloud- A world we do not see; Yet the sweet closing of an eye May bring us there to be.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEIt lies around us like a cloud- A world we do not see; Yet the sweet closing of an eye May bring us there to be.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEI did not write it. God wrote it. I merely did his dictation.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEMoney is a great help everywhere; – can’t have too much, if you get it honestly.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEEyes that have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEOf course, in a novel, people’s hearts break, and they die and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEAll places where women are excluded tend downward to barbarism; but the moment she is introduced, there come in with her courtesy, cleanliness, sobriety, and order.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEWitness, eternal God! Oh, witness that, from this hour, I will do what one man can to drive out this curse of slavery from my land!
HARRIET BEECHER STOWELove is very beautiful, but very, very sad.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWECommon sense is seeing things as they are; and doing things as they ought to be.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWELet us resolve: First, to attain the grace of silence; second, to deem all fault finding that does no good a sin; third, to practice the grade and virtue of praise.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEIt is generally understood that men don’t aspire after the absolute right, but only to do about as well as the rest of the world.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEAll men are free and equal in the grave, if it comes to that.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEO, what an untold world there is in one human heart!
HARRIET BEECHER STOWESweet souls around us watch us still, press nearer to our side; Into our thoughts, into our prayers, with gentle helpings glide.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEThe longest way must have its close – the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWEIf we let our friend become cold and selfish and exacting without a remonstrance, we are no true lover, no true friend.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE