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As oil will find its way into crevices where water cannot penetrate, so song will find its way where speech can no longer enter.
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
Water
Crevices
Song
Crevice
Cannot
Penetrate
Music
Oil
Find
Enter
Way
Speech
Singing
Longer
More quotes by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Care and labor are as much correlated to human existence as shadow is to light.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
I no more thought of style or literary excellence than the mother who rushes into the street and cries for help to save her children from a burning house, thinks of the teachings of the rhetorician or the elocutionist.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
What a fool is he who locks his door to keep out spirits, who has in his own bosom a spirit he dares not meet alone whose voice, smothered far down, and piled over with mountains of earthliness, is yet like the forewarning trumpet of doom!
Harriet Beecher Stowe
...it is impossible to make anything beautiful or desirable in the best regulated administration of slavery.
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
it isn't mere love and good-will that is needed in a sick-room it needs knowledge and experience.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
One would like to be grand and heroic, if one could but if not, why try at all? One wants to be very something, very great, very heroic or if not that, then at least very stylish and very fashionable. It is this everlasting mediocrity that bores me.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Scenes of blood and cruelty are shocking to our ear and heart. What man has nerve to do, man has not nerve to hear.
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
O, what an untold world there is in one human heart!
Harriet Beecher Stowe
There is no phase of the Italian mind that has not found expression in its music.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows all spring up into joys for others whose earthly hopes, laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate and the distressed.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
A man builds a house in England with the expectation of living in it and leaving it to his children we shed our houses in America as easily as a snail does his shell.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Love is very beautiful, but very, very sad.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
The power of fictitious writing, for good as well as evil is a thing which ought most seriously to be reflected on. No one can fail to see that in our day it is becoming a very great agency.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Everyone confesses in the abstract that exertion which brings out all the powers of body and mind is the best thing for us all but practically most people do all they can to get rid of it, and as a general rule nobody does much more than circumstances drive them to do.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
The obstinacy of cleverness and reason is nothing to the obstinacy of folly and inanity.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
All places where women are excluded tend downward to barbarism but the moment she is introduced, there come in with her courtesy, cleanliness, sobriety, and order.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Get your evidences of grace by pressing forward to the mark, and not by groping with a lantern after the boundary lines.
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Witness, eternal God! Oh, witness that, from this hour, I will do what one man can to drive out this curse of slavery from my land!
Harriet Beecher Stowe
