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Whipping and abuse are like laudanum: you have to double the dose as the sensibilities decline.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
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Harriet Beecher Stowe
Age: 85 †
Born: 1811
Born: June 14
Died: 1896
Died: July 1
Author
Novelist
Poet
Short Story Writer
Writer
Litchfield (town)
Connecticut
Christopher Crowfield
Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe
Enrieta Elizabeth Beecher Stowe
Harriet Elizabeth Beecher
Harriet Elisabeth Beecher Stowe
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Whipping
Sensibilities
Dose
Sensibility
Double
Decline
Punishment
Abuse
More quotes by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Sweet souls around us watch us still, press nearer to our side Into our thoughts, into our prayers, with gentle helpings glide.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Your little child is the only true democrat.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth And silver waves chime ever peacefully, And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flyeth Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
There is a great life-giving, warming power called Love, which exists in human hearts dumb and unseen, but which has no real life, no warming power, till set free by expression.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
So much has been said and sung of beautiful young girls, why doesn't somebody wake up to the beauty of old women.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
No one is so thoroughly superstitious as the godless man.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Friends are discovered rather than made there are people who are in their own nature friends, only they don't know each other but certain things, like poetry, music, and paintings are like the Freemason's sign, they reveal the initiated to each other.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
The longest day must have its close — the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning. An eternal, inexorable lapse of moments is ever hurrying the day of the evil to an eternal night, and the night of the just to an eternal day.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Treat 'em like dogs, and you'll have dogs' works and dogs' actions. Treat 'em like men, and you'll have men's works.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful, ghostly, unquiet possession for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awful perhapses,--those shudderings and tremblings, which it can no more live down than it can outlive its own eternity?
Harriet Beecher Stowe
If I am to write, I must have a room to myself, which shall be my room.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Praise is sunshine it warms, it inspires, it promotes growth blame and rebuke are rain and hail they beat down and bedraggle, even though they may at times be necessary.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
The number of those men who know how to use wholly irresponsible power humanely and generously is small. Everybody knows this, and the slave knows it best of all.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
I don't know as I am fit for anything and I have thought that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my faults perish in the grave rather than live, as I fear I do, a trouble to everyone.... Sometimes I could not sleep and have groaned and cried till midnight.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
'Who was your mother?' 'Never had none!' said the child, with another grin. 'Never had any mother? What do you mean? Where were you born?' 'Never was born!' 'Do you know who made you?' 'Nobody, as I knows on,' said the child, with a short laugh. . . . 'I 'spect I grow'd.'
Harriet Beecher Stowe
When you get into a tight place, and everything goes against you till it seems as if you could n't hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that 's just the place and time that the tide'll turn.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
I am one of the sort that lives by throwing stones at other people's glass houses, but I never mean to put up one for them to stone.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
...the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
All men are free and equal in the grave, if it comes to that.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
