On earth the living have much to bear; the difference is chiefly in the manner of bearing, and my manner of bearing is far from being the best.
JANE WELSH CARLYLERelated Topics
Anand Thakur
On earth the living have much to bear; the difference is chiefly in the manner of bearing, and my manner of bearing is far from being the best.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEI am not at all the sort of person you and I took me for.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEThe glittering baits of titles and honours are only for children and fools.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEI rely on the promise, God is kind to women, fools, and drunk people.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEIn spite of the honestest efforts to annihilate my I-ity, or merge it in what the world doubtless considers my better half, I still find myself a self-subsisting and alas! self-seeking me.
JANE WELSH CARLYLECracked things often hold out as long as whole things; one takes so much better care of them!
JANE WELSH CARLYLENot a hundredth part of the thoughts in my head have ever been or ever will be spoken or written — as long as I keep my senses, at least.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEThe only thing that makes one place more attractive to me than another is the quantity of heart I find in it.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEThe triumphal-procession-air which, in our manners and customs, is given to marriage at the outset – that singing of Te Deum before the battle has begun.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEThe longer one lives in this hard world motherless, the more a mother’s loss makes itself felt.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEIt is sad and wrong to be so dependent for the life of my life on any human being as I am on you; but I cannot by any force of logic cure myself at this date, when it has become second nature.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEPeople who are so dreadfully “devoted” to their wives are so apt, from mere habit, to get devoted to other people’s wives as well.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEYouth is so insatiable of happiness, and has such sublimely insane faith in its own power to make happy and be happy!
JANE WELSH CARLYLEIf they had said that the sun or the moon had gone out of the heavens, it could not have struck me with the idea of a more awful and dreary blank in creation than the words: Byron is dead!
JANE WELSH CARLYLETime is the only comforter for the loss of a mother.
JANE WELSH CARLYLEAll griefs, when there is no bitterness in them, are soothed down by time.
JANE WELSH CARLYLE