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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

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Dinah Maria Murlock Craik
Grief
Aurora
Hour
Blest
Shadow
Bursts
Eyes
Backward
Hours
Shadows
Eye
Roll
Soul
Rise
Like
Glad
Unaccustomed

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A secret at home is like rocks under tide.
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Queens you must always be: queens to your lovers queens to your husbands and your sons, queens of higher mystery to the world beyond. . . . But alas, you are too often idle and careless queens, grasping at majesty in the least things, while you abdicate it in the greatest.
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It is the Christmas time: And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth, In glorious grief and solemn mirth, The shining angels climb.
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One only right we have to assert in common with mankind--and that is as much in our hands as theirs--is the right of having something to do.
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Unless a woman has a decided pleasure and facility in teaching, an honest knowledge of everything she professes to impart, a liking for children, and, above all, a strong moral sense of her responsibility towards them, for her to attempt to enroll herself in the scholastic order is absolute profanation.
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It is not work that kills, but worry.
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Happiness! Can any human being undertake to define it for another?
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An author departs he does not die.
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We never discover the value of things till we have lost them.
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Love never stands still it must inevitably be either growing or decaying - especially the love of marriage.
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Wedlock's a lane where there is no turning.
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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.
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The present only is a man's possession the past is gone out of his hand wholly, irrevocably. He may suffer from it, learn from it,--in degree, perhaps, expiate it but to brood over it is utter madness.
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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.
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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.
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Ethics, as has been well said, are the finest fruits of humanity, but they are not its roots
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We have not to construct human nature afresh, but to take it as we find it, and make the best of it.
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absence ... smothers into decay a rootless fancy but often nourishes the least seed of a true affection into full-flowering love.
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