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Happiness is not an end - it is only a means, and adjunct, a consequence.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
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Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
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More quotes by Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
God rest ye, little children let nothing you afright, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night Along the hills of Galilee the white blocks sleeping lay, When Christ, the child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas day.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green But as time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
O the green things growing, the green things growing, The faint sweet smell of the green things growing! I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve, Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Society, in the aggregate, is no fool. It is astonishing what an amount of eccentricity it will stand from anybody who takes the bull by the horns, too fearless or too indifferent to think of consequences.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
With faces like dead lovers who died true.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
A lost love. Deny it who will, ridicule it, treat it as mere imagination and sentiment, the thing is and will be and women do suffer therefrom, in all its infinite varieties: loss by death, by faithlessness or unworthiness, and by mistaken or unrequited affection.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Happiness! Can any human being undertake to define it for another?
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
according to the old joke, married people are often like little boys bathing, who cry with chattering teeth to the boys on the shore, 'Do come in, it's so warm' - it is not always warm.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Silence sweeter is than speech.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
O blest one hour like this! to rise And see grief's shadows backward roll While bursts on unaccustomed eyes The glad Aurora of the soul.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
O how beautiful is morning! How the sunbeams strike the daisies And the kingcups fill the meadow Like a golden-shielded army Marching to the uplands fair.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
There are no judgments so harsh as those of the erring, the inexperienced, and the young.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
The irrevocable Hand That opes the year's fair gate, doth ope and shut The portals of our earthly destinies We walk through blindfold, and the noiseless doors Close after us, for ever.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
There can be - there ought to be - no medium course a love-affair is either sober earnest or contemptible folly, if not wickedness: to gossip about it is, in the first instance, intrusive, unkind, or dangerous in the second, simply silly.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
A true test of friendship, to sit or walk with a friend for an hour in perfect silence , without wearying of one another's company.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Why cannot one always do, not only the right thing, but at the right time?
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Wedlock's a lane where there is no turning.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Autumn Into earth's lap does throw Brown apples gay in a game of play, As the equinoctials blow.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Autumn to winter, winter into spring, Spring into summer, summer into fall,-- So rolls the changing year, and so we change Motion so swift, we know not that we move.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
The world! It is a word capable of as diverse interpretations or misinterpretations as the thing itself - a thing by various people supposed to belong to heaven, man, or the devil, or alternatively to all three.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik