Whipping and abuse are like laudanum: you have to double the dose as the sensibilities decline. Harriet Beecher Stowe More Quotes by Harriet Beecher Stowe More Quotes From Harriet Beecher Stowe All men are free and equal in the grave, if it comes to that. Harriet Beecher Stowe diversityjusticemen Love is very beautiful, but very, very sad. Harriet Beecher Stowe very-sadlove-isbeautiful Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone, utterly gone, and forever! Harriet Beecher Stowe desireforeverbeautiful For, so inconsistent is human nature, especially in the ideal, that not to undertake a thing at all seems better than to undertake and come short. Harriet Beecher Stowe inconsistenthuman-naturehumans There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows all spring up into joys for others; whose earthly hopes, laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate and the distressed. Harriet Beecher Stowe flowerblessedspring Whatever offices of life are performed by women of culture and refinement are thenceforth elevated; they cease to be mere servile toils, and become expressions of the ideas of superior beings. Harriet Beecher Stowe officeexpressionideas God has always been to me not so much like a father as like a dear and tender mother. Harriet Beecher Stowe dearmotherfather Rome is an astonishment! Harriet Beecher Stowe astonishmentrome a true gentleman ... was characterized as the man that asks the fewest questions. This trait of refined society might be adopted into home-like in a far greater degree than it is, and make it far more agreeable. Harriet Beecher Stowe familyhomemen It would be an incalculable gain to domestic happiness, if people would begin the concert of life with their instruments tuned to a very low pitch: they who receive the most happiness are generally they who demand and expect the least. Harriet Beecher Stowe expectationswould-bepeople There is no phase of the Italian mind that has not found expression in its music. Harriet Beecher Stowe musicitalianexpression As oil will find its way into crevices where water cannot penetrate, so song will find its way where speech can no longer enter. Harriet Beecher Stowe oilmusicsong The same quickness which makes a mind buoyant in gladness often makes it gentlest and most sympathetic in sorrow. Harriet Beecher Stowe compassionkindnessjoy the temperaments of children are often as oddly unsuited to parents as if capricious fairies had been filling cradles with changelings. Harriet Beecher Stowe fairyparentchildren A ship is a beauty and a mystery wherever we see it. Harriet Beecher Stowe shipsmystery Religion! Is what you hear at church religion? Is that which can bend and turn, and descend and ascend, to fit every crooked phase of selfish, worldly society, religion? Harriet Beecher Stowe phasesselfishchurch So we go, so little knowing what we touch and what touches us as we talk! We drop out a common piece of news, "Mr. So-and-so is dead, Miss Such-a-one is married, such a ship has sailed," and lo, on our right hand or on our left, some heart has sunk under the news silently - gone down in the great ocean of Fate, without even a bubble rising to tell its drowning pang. And this - God help us! - is what we call living! Harriet Beecher Stowe womenoceanheart Care and labor are as much correlated to human existence as shadow is to light. Harriet Beecher Stowe hardshipshadowlight 'Who was your mother?' 'Never had none!' said the child, with another grin. 'Never had any mother? What do you mean? Where were you born?' 'Never was born!' 'Do you know who made you?' 'Nobody, as I knows on,' said the child, with a short laugh. . . . 'I 'spect I grow'd.' Harriet Beecher Stowe laughtermotherchildren I don't know as I am fit for anything and I have thought that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my faults perish in the grave rather than live, as I fear I do, a trouble to everyone.... Sometimes I could not sleep and have groaned and cried till midnight. Harriet Beecher Stowe wish-to-dieremembrancesleep
