Helen Hunt Jackson Quotes (39 Quotes)

When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.

O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before, Forever June may pour her warm red wine Of life and passions, - sweeter days are thine

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful.

Now and then one sees a face which has kept its smile pure and undefiled. Such a smile transfigures such a smile, if the artful but know it, is the greatest weapon a face can have.

O sweet, wise shore, to be so satisfied!

But once thou hast caressed me;
For life, for death, thy love has cursed or blessed me;
Behold, I follow thee!

O month when they who love must love and wed.

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?

For April sobs while these are so glad, April weeps while these are so gay, - Weeps like a tired child who had, Playing with flowers, lost its way.

The new is older than the old And newest friend is oldest friend in this That, waiting him, we longest grieved to miss One thing we sought.

How high thy gold is heaped!

Who longest waits most surely wins.

When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.

Thy love may curse or bless me,
I care not, if but once thou dost caress me,
O Brook, I follow thee!

The mighty are brought low by many a thing Too small to name. Beneath the daisy's disk Lies hid the pebble for the fatal sling.

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.

Wounded vanity knows when it is mortally hurt and limps off the field, piteous, all disguises thrown away. But pride carries its banner to the last and fast as it is driven from one field unfurls it in another.

Love has a tide!

Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.

There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.

That indescribable expression peculiar to people who hope they have not been asleep, but know they have.

I knew the risks; I chose the pain.

Find me the men on earth who care; Enough for faith or creed today; To seek a barren wilderness; For simple liberty to pray.

Teach me to be more wise.

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.

But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.

Oh, write of me, not Died in bitter pains, But Emigrated to another star.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.

On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

There cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families.

Who waits until the wind shall silent keep. Will never find the ready hour to sow.

Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy.

O suns and skies and clouds of June, and flowers of June together. Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather.

O heart, learn from the shore!

As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it.

I know not if my love would curse or bless thee.