A man who does not know how to be angry, does not know how to be good. Now and then a man should be shaken to the core with indignation over things evil.
HENRY WARD BEECHEROf all the music that reached farthest into heaven, it is the beating of a loving heart.
More Henry Ward Beecher Quotes
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Laws and institutions, like clocks, must occasionally be cleaned, wound up, and set to true time.
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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.
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The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness and blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game.
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I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love.
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A man without self-restraint is like a barrel without hoops, and tumbles to pieces.
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Don’t look where you fall, but where you slipped.
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A little library, growing every year, is an honorable part of a man’s history. It is a man’s duty to have books.
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Troubles are often the tools by which God fashions us for better things.
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Next to victory, there is nothing so sweet as defeat, if only the right adversary overcomes you.
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Life would be a perpetual flea hunt if a man were obliged to run down all the innuendoes, inveracities, and insinuations and misrepresentations which are uttered against him.
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No coffee can be good in the mouth that does not first send a sweet offering of odor to the nostrils.
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The Bible is God’s chart for you to steer by, to keep you from the bottom of the sea, and to show you where the harbor is, and how to reach it without running on rocks or bars.
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It is not what we read, but what we remember, that makes us learned. It is not what we intend, but what we do that makes us useful. It is not a few faint wishes, but a life long struggle, that makes us valiant.
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Home should be an oratorio of the memory, singing to all our after life melodies and harmonies of old-remembered joy.
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The mother’s heart is the child’s schoolroom.
HENRY WARD BEECHER