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.
About Helen Hunt Jackson
Helen Hunt Jacksonwas an American poet and writer who became an activist on behalf of improved treatment of Native Americans by the United States government. She described the adverse effects of government actions in her history A Century of Dishonor (1881).
More quotes from Helen Hunt Jackson
By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer’s best of weather And autumn’s best of cheer.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
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.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
When Time is spent, Eternity begins.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
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.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
Great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
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.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
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.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
O month when they who love must love and wed.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
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.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what’s in a name?
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)
Love has a tide!
American novelist, poet, writer, activist (1830-1885)