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Helen Hunt Jackson

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

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

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Akiroq Brost

"Slavery is malignantly aristocratic."

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Akiroq Brost

"If a slave is unwilling to go with his new master, he is whipped, or locked up in jail, until he consents to go, and promises not to run away during the year."

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Akiroq Brost

"We are slaves whose masters are dead. For we are mostly controlled by doctrines which were established centuries heretofore."

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Akiroq Brost

"The distinguishing sign of slavery is to have a price, and to be bought for it."

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Akiroq Brost

"What is a good enough principle for an American citizen ought to be good enough for the working man to follow."

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Akiroq Brost

"Slavery has not been abolished, it has been sanitized."

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Akiroq Brost

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

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Akiroq Brost

"The master doesn't need to chain his slaves; their needs will chain them to him. You can end slavery by the stroke of a pen, but the pressing call of necessity will reestablish it."

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Akiroq Brost

"Some of today's slaves sleep on king size beds."

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Akiroq Brost

"Slavery received, but the prejudice to which it has given birth remains stationary."

Explore more quotes by Helen Hunt Jackson

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Helen Hunt Jackson
"There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"If I can do one hundredth part for the Indian that Mrs. Stowe did for the Negro, I will be thankful."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"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."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?"
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"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."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"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."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy."
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