Helen Hunt Jackson Quotes
When Time is spent, Eternity begins... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
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... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
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... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
On the king's gate the moss grew gray.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
But great loves, to the last, have pulses red.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
O month when they who love must love and wed... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
Great loves, to the last, have pulses red.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
Love has a tide!.. view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand... view
By: Helen Hunt Jackson
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