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I am persuaded that there is no affection of the human heart more exquisitely pure, than that which is felt by a grateful son towards a mother.

Hannah More

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Hannah More
Age: 88 †
Born: 1745
Born: February 2
Died: 1833
Died: September 7
Abolitionist
Essayist
Philanthropist
Playwright
Poet
Tragedy Writer
Writer
Will Chip
Grateful
Pure
Felt
Mother
Exquisitely
Human
Persuaded
Humans
Affection
Heart
Towards
Son

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Proportion and propriety are among the best secrets of domestic wisdom and there is no surer test of integrity than a well-proportioned expenditure.
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Oh! the joy Of young ideas painted on the mind, In the warm glowing colors fancy spreads On objects not yet known, when all is new, And all is lovely.
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Temptation does not make the sin, it lies ready in the heart.
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we contrive to make revenge itself look like religion. We call down thunder on many a head under pretence, that those on whom we invoke it are God's enemies, when perhaps we invoke it because they are ours.
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Prayer is not eloquence but earnestness.
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In men this blunder still you find all think their little set mankind.
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Anger is a violent act, envy a constant habit - no one can be always angry, but he may be always envious.
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It is the large aggregate of small things perpetually occurring that robs me of all my time. The expense of learning to read might have been spared in my education, for I never read.
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Prayer is not eloquence, but earnestness not the definition of helplessness, but the feeling of it not figures of speech, but earnestness of soul.
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Rage is for little wrongs despair is dumb.
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Who are those ever multiplying authors that with unparalleled fecundity are overstocking the world with their quick succeeding progeny? They are novel-writers.
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The wretch who digs the mine for bread, or ploughs, that others may be fed, feels less fatigued than that decreed to him who cannot think or read.
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nothing is more common than to mistake the sign for the thing itself nor is any practice more frequent than that of endeavoring to acquire the exterior mark, without once thinking to labor after the interior grace.
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Our merciful Father has no pleasure in the sufferings of His children He chastens them in love He never inflicts a stroke He could safely spare He inflicts it to purify as well as to punish, to caution as well as to cure, to improve as well as to chastise.
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we live in an age which must be amused, though genius, feeling, trust, and principle be the sacrifice.
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If I wished to punish my enemy, I should make him hate somebody.
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Imagination frames events unknown, In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin, And what it fears creates.
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A crown! what is it? It is to bear the miseries of a people! To hear their murmurs, feel their discontents, And sink beneath a load of splendid care!
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A slowness to applaud betrays a cold temper or an envious spirit.
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Commending a right thing is a cheap substitute for doing it, with which we are too apt to satisfy ourselves.
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