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Helen Hunt Jackson

"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."

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"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."

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"Opposition may become sweet to a man when he has christened it persecution."

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"A little skill in antiquity inclines a man to Popery."

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"In the course of history, men come to see that iron necessity is neither iron nor necessary."

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"A man in passion rides a horse that runs away with him."

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"The man who looks for security, even in the mind, is like a man who would chop off his limbs in order to have artificial ones which will give him no pain or trouble."

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"There is nothing so stupid as the educated man if you get him off the thing he was educated in."

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"The dons of Oxford and Cambridge are too busy educating the young men to be able to teach them anything."

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"Men should not try to overstrain their goodness more than any other faculty, bodily or mental."

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Asa Don Brown

"In the last analysis, even the best man is evil: in the last analysis, even the best woman is bad."

Explore more quotes by Helen Hunt Jackson

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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
"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
"There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride."
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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
"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
"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
"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."
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Helen Hunt Jackson
"Words are less needful to sorrow than to joy."
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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
"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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