What the world stigmatizes as romantic is often more nearly allied to the truth than is commonly supposed.
All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find, and when found, so trivial in quantity, that the dry, shriveled kernel scarcely compensates for the trouble of cracking the nut.
I wished to tell the truth, for truth always conveys its own moral to those who are able to receive it.
That wish – that prayer – both men and women would have scorned me for – “But, Father, Thou wilt not despise!” I said, and felt that it was true.
What business had I to think of one that never thought of me?
I love the silent hour of night,For blissful dreams may then arise,Revealing to my charmed sightWhat may not bless my waking eyes.
It was wrong to be so joyless, so desponding; I should have made God my friend, and to do His will the pleasure and the business of my life; but faith was weak, and passion was too strong.
Reading is my favourite occupation, when I have leisure for it and books to read.
One bright day in the last week of February, I was walking in the park, enjoying the threefold luxury of solitude, a book, and pleasant weather.
I possess the faculty of enjoying the company of those I – of my friends as well in silence as in conversation.
But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose.
It is foolish to wish for beauty. Sensible people never either desire it for themselves or care about it in others. If the mind be but well cultivated, and the heart well disposed, no one ever cares for the exterior.
[B]eauty is that quality which, next to money, is generally the most attractive to the worst kinds of men; and, therefore, it is likely to entail a great deal of trouble on the possessor.
There’s nothing like active employment, I suppose, to console the afflicted.
Then, you must fall each into your proper place. You’ll do your business, and she, if she’s worthy of you, will do hers; but it’s your business to please yourself, and hers to please you.
When I tell you not to marry without love, I do not advise you to marry for love alone: there are many, many other things to be considered. Keep both heart and hand in your own possession, till you see good reason to part with them . . . .
My heart is too thoroughly dried to be broken in a hurry, and I mean to live as long as I can.
The rose I gave you was an emblem of myheart,’ said she; ‘would you take it away andleave me here alone?’ ‘Would you give me your hand too, if I askedit?’ ‘Have I not said enough?
The human heart is like india-rubber; a little swells it, but a great deal will not burst it.
No, but still it is very unpleasant to live with such unimpressible, incomprehensible creatures. You cannot love them; and if you could, your love would be utterly thrown away: they could neither return it, nor value, nor understand it.
Two years hence you will be as calm as I am now, – and far, far happier, I trust, for you are a man and free to act as you please
Severed and gone, so many years! And art thou still so dear to me, That throbbing heart and burning tears Can witness how I cling to thee?
It is natural for our unamiable sex to dislike the creatures, for you ladies lavish so many caresses upon them.
It’s well to have such a comfortable assurance regarding the worth of those we love. I only wish you may not find your confidence misplaced.
When I tell you not to marry without love, I do not advise you to marry for love alone – there are many, many other things to be considered.
How odd it is that we so often weep for each other’s distresses, when we shed not a tear for our own!
When a lady condescends to apologise, there is no keeping one’s anger.
Smiles and tears are so alike with me, they are neither of them confined to any particular feelings: I often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sad.
She left me, offended at my want of sympathy, and thinking, no doubt, that I envied her. I did not – at least, I firmly believed I did not.
I’ll promise to think twice before I take any important step you seriously disapprove of.
He cannot endure Rachel, because he knows she has a proper appreciation of him.
If we can only speak to slander our betters, let us hold our tongues.
I was infatuated once with a foolish, besotted affection, that clung to him in spite of his unworthiness, but it is fairly gone now–wholly crushed and withered away; and he has none but himself and his vices to thank for it.
. . . you have blighted the promise of youth, and made my life a wilderness!
She, however, attentively watched my looks, and her artist’s pride was gratified, no doubt, to read my heartfelt admiration in my eyes.
Never! while heaven spares my reason,’ replied I, snatching away the hand he had presumed to seize and press between his own.
The ties that bind us to life are tougher than you imagine, or than any one can who has not felt how roughly they may be pulled without breaking.
God might awaken that heart, supine and stupefied with self-indulgence, and remove the film of sensual darkness from his eyes, but I could not.
One glance he gave, one little smile at parting—it was but for a moment; but therein I read, or thought I read, a meaning that kindled in my heart a brighter flame of hope than had ever yet arisen.
If you would have a boy to despise his mother, let her keep him at home, and spend her life in petting him up, and slaving to indulge his follies and caprices.
If you would really study my pleasure, mother, you must consider your own comfort and convenience a little more than you do.
. . . I should wish you to think more deeply, to look further, and aim higher than you do.
And so you prefer her faults to other people’s perfections?
I don’t know how to talk to you, Mrs. Huntingdon . . . you are only half a woman–your nature must be half human, half angelic. Such goodness overawes me; I don’t know what to make of it.
You may think it all very fine, Mr. Huntingdon, to amuse yourself with rousing my jealousy; but take care you don’t rouse my hate instead. And when you have once extinguished my love, you will find it no easy matter to kindle it again.
I gave up hoping…But, still, I would think of him, I would cherish his image in my mind, and treasure every word, look and gesture that memory could retain.
I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being miserable one-half his days and mad the other.
A spirit of candor and frankness, when wholly unaccompanied with coarseness, headmired in others, but he could not acquire it himself.
By his [God’s] help I will arise and address myself diligently to my appointed duty. If happiness in this world is not for me, I will endeavor to promote the welfare of those around me, and my reward shall be hereafter.
I’ll tell you a piece of news–I hope you have not heard it before: for good, bad, or indifferent, one always likes to be the first to tell.