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One act of beneficence, one act of real usefulness, is worth all the abstract sentiment in the world.

Ann Radcliffe

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Ann Radcliffe
Age: 58 †
Born: 1764
Born: July 9
Died: 1823
Died: February 7
Author
Novelist
Writer
Ann Ward
Anne Radcliffe
Anne Ward
Ann Ward Radcliffe
Ann Ward
Mrs. Radcliffe
Ann Radcliffe
née Ward
Worth
Action
Real
Beneficence
World
Usefulness
Sentiment
Sentiments
Serving
Abstract

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To a generous mind few circumstances are more afflicting than a discovery of perfidy in those whom we have trusted.
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There is something in the ardour and ingenousness of youth, which is particularly pleasing to the contemplation of an old man, if his feelings have not been entirely corroded by the world.
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If the weak hand, that has recorded this tale, has, by its scenes, beguiled the mourner of one hour of sorrow, or, by its moral, taught him to sustain it - the effort, however humble, has not been vain, nor is the writer unrewarded.
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I tasted too what was called the sweet of revenge - but it was transient, it expired even with the object, that provoked it.
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The refreshing pleasure from the first view of nature, after the pain of illness, and the confinement of a sick-chamber, is above the conceptions, as well as the descriptions, of those in health.
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What is acquired without labor is seldom worth acquiring at all.
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It is dismal coming home, when there is nobody to welcome one!
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When the mind has once begun to yield to the weakness of superstition, trifles impress it with the force of conviction.
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But St. Aubert had too much good sense to prefer a charm to a virtue.
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Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.
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There is some comfort in dying surrounded by one's children.
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He loved the soothing hour, when the last tints of light die away when the stars, one by one, tremble through æther, and are reflected on the dark mirror of the waters that hour, which, of all others, inspires the mind with pensive tenderness, and often elevates it to sublime contemplation.
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Happiness arises in a state of peace, not of tumult.
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There is no accounting for tastes.
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Sentiment is a disgrace, instead of an ornament, unless it lead us to good actions.
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Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns, And as the portal opens to receive me, A voice in hollow murmurs through the courts Tells of a nameless deed.
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I wish that all those, who on this night are not merry enough to speak before they think, may ever after be grave enough to think before they speak!
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Never will I give my hand where my heart does not accompany it.
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At first a small line of inconceivable splendour emerged on the horizon, which, quickly expanding, the sun appeared in all of his glory, unveiling the whole face of nature, vivifying every colour of the landscape, and sprinkling the dewy earth with glittering light.
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When justice happens to oppose prejudice, we are apt to believe it virtuous to disobey her.
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