Each thought is a nail that is driven In structures that cannot decay; And the mansion at last will be given To us as we build it each day.
Sympathetic people often don’t communicate well, they back reflected images which hide their own depths.
Our passions do not live apart in locked chambers but dress in their small wardrobe of notions, bring their provisions to a common table and mess together, feeding out of the common store according to their appetite.
In the schoolroom her quick mind had taken readily that strong starch of unexplained rules and disconnected facts which saves ignorance from any painful sense of limpness.
Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it.
The wrong that rouses our angry passions finds only a medium in us; it passes through us like a vibration, and we inflict what we have suffered.
We must not inquire too curiously into motives. they are apt to become feeble in the utterance: the aroma is mixed with the grosser air. We must keep the germinating grain away from the light.
There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence.
Oh, child, men’s men: gentle or simple, they’re much of a muchness...
A patronizing disposition always has its meaner side.
Souls have complexions too: what will suit one will not suit another.
Self-confidence is apt to address itself to an imaginary dullness in others; as people who are well off speak in a cajoling tone to the poor.
The law and medicine should be very serious professions to undertake, should they not? People’s lives and fortunes depend on them.
Errors look so very ugly in persons of small means -one feels they are taking quite a liberty in going astray; whereas people of fortune may naturally indulge in a few delinquencies.
Blows are sarcasms turned stupid.
There are glances of hatred that stab, and raise no cry of murder.
Much of our waking experience is but a dream in the daylight.
College mostly makes people like bladders-just good for nothing but t’hold the stuff as is poured into ’em.
I’ve always felt that your belongings have never been on a level with you.
In poor Rosamond’s mind there was not room enough for luxuries to look small in.