The only hero known to my childhood was Henry Clay. Rebecca Harding Davis More Quotes by Rebecca Harding Davis More Quotes From Rebecca Harding Davis The sun, the earth, love, friends, our very breath are parts of the banquet. Rebecca Harding Davis thanksgiving-inspirational earth sun For, after all, put it as we may to ourselves, we are all of us from birth to death guests at a table which we did not spread. The sun, the earth, love, friends, our very breath are parts of the banquet.... Shall we think of the day as a chance to come nearer to our Host, and to find out something of Him who has fed us so long? Rebecca Harding Davis thanksgiving godly inspirational Reform is born of need, not pity. No vital movement of the people has worked down, for good or evil; fermented, instead, carried up the heaving, cloggy mass. Rebecca Harding Davis reform evil people These great turning-days of life cast no shadow before, slip by unconsciously. Only a trifle, a little turn of the rudder, and the ship goes to heaven or hell. Rebecca Harding Davis fate shadow heaven War may be an armed angel with a mission, but she has the personal habits of the slums. Rebecca Harding Davis angel may war It is a good rule never to see or talk to the man whose words have wrung your heart, or helped it, just as it is wise not to look down too closely at the luminous glow which sometimes shines on your path on a summer night, if you would not see the ugly worm below. Rebecca Harding Davis wise summer heart I have never seen an adequate description anywhere of the amazement, the uncomprehending horror of the bulk of the American people which preceded the firing of that gun at Sumter. Politicians or far-sighted leaders on both sides knew what was coming. And it is they who have written histories of the war. But to the easy-going millions, busied with their farms or shops, the onrushing disaster was as inexplicable as an earthquake. Their protest arose from sea to sea like the clamor of a gigantic hive of frightened bees. Rebecca Harding Davis gun sea war You will find the poet who wrings the heart of the world, or the foremost captain of his time, driving a bargain or paring a potato, just as you would do. Rebecca Harding Davis captains heart world It has happened to me to meet many of the men of my day whom the world agreed to call great. Rebecca Harding Davis great-day men world We have grown used to money. The handling, the increase of it, is the chief business of life now with most of us. Rebecca Harding Davis chiefs increase used Nowhere in this country, from sea to sea, does nature comfort us with such assurance of plenty, such rich and tranquil beauty as in those unsung, unpainted hills of Pennsylvania. Rebecca Harding Davis comfort sea country ... while the light burning within may have been divine, the outer case of the lamp was assuredly cheap enough. Rebecca Harding Davis burning lamps light America may have great poets and novelists, but she never will have more than one necromancer. Rebecca Harding Davis novelists may america Reform is born of need, not pity. Rebecca Harding Davis pity reform needs No man surely has so short a memory as the American. Rebecca Harding Davis men memories It was part of your religion to hate the British. Rebecca Harding Davis british hate Sitting by the chimney corner as we grow old, the commonest things around us take on live meanings and hint at the difference between these driving times and the calm, slow moving days when we were young. Rebecca Harding Davis time-to-move-on moving-on differences Every child was taught from his cradle that money was Mammon, the chief agent of the flesh and the devil. As he grew up it was his duty as a Christian and a gentleman to appear to despise filthy lucre, whatever his secret opinion of it might be. Rebecca Harding Davis money christian children North and South were equally confident that God was on their side, and appealed incessantly to Him. Rebecca Harding Davis north-and-south south sides The histories which we have of the great tragedy give no idea of the general wretchedness, the squalid misery, which entered into every individual life in the region given up to the war. Where the armies camped the destruction was absolute. Rebecca Harding Davis army war ideas
