Helen Hunt Jackson Quotes
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As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it.
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Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?
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But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.
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But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
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By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.
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Great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
[Love]
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I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.
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If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful.
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Men call fretting a minor fault - a foible and not a vice. - But there is no vice except drunkenness which can so utterly destroy the peace and happiness of a home.
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Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.
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No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, love.
[The Past]
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Now and then one sees a face which has kept its smile pure and undefiled. Such a smile transfigures; such a smile, if the artful but know it, is the greatest weapon a face can have.
[Friendship]
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O month when they who love must love and wed.
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O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.
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On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.
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The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.
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There cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families.
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There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.
[Self Confidence]
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We sail, at sunrise, daily, "outward bound."
[Mornings]
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