[Asked, upon the death of her fast friend and sister suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton (1816-1902), which period of their associat...ion she had enjoyed the most:] The days when the struggle was the hardest and the fight the thickest; when the whole world was against us and we had to stand the closer to each other; when I would go to her home and help with the children and the housekeeping through the day and then we would sit up far into the night preparing our ammunition and getting ready to move on the enemy. The years since the rewards began to come have brought no enjoyment like that.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I am thy father's spirit, Doomed for a certain term to walk the night,... And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,... When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silvered o'er with white: When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard: Then of thy beauty do I question make That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake, And die as fast as they see others grow, And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I will not argue the matter: Time wastes too fast: every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen; the days ...and hours of it, more precious, my dear Jenny! than the rubies about thy neck, are flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day, never to return more--every thing presses on--whilst thou art twisting that lock,--see! it grows grey; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make.-- --Heaven have mercy upon us both!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There are few books which are fit to be remembered in our wisest hours, but the Iliad is brightest in the serenest days, and embod...ies still all the sunlight that fell on Asia Minor. No modern joy or ecstasy of ours can lower its height or dim its lustre, but there it lies in the east of literature, as it were the earliest and latest production of the mind. The ruins of Egypt oppress and stifle us with their dust, foulness preserved in cassia and pitch, and swathed in linen; the death of that which never lived. But the rays of Greek poetry struggle down to us, and mingle with the sunbeams of the recent day. The statue of Memnon is cast down, but the shaft of the Iliad still meets the sun in his rising.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There stands a gig in the gray morning, in the mist, the impatient traveler pacing the wet shore with whip in hand, and shouting t...hrough the fog after the regardless Charon and his retreating ark, as if he might throw that passenger overboard and return forthwith for himself; he will compensate him. He is to break his fast at some unseen place on the opposite side. It may be Ledyard or the Wandering Jew. Whence, pray, did he come out of the foggy night? and wither through the sunny day will he go? We observe only his transit; important to us, forgotten by him, transiting all day.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
In a herber green, asleep where I lay, The birds sang sweet in the mids of the day;... I dreamed fast of mirth and play. In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The current flows fast and furious. It issues in a spate of words from the loudspeakers and the politicians. Every day they tell u...s that we are a free people fighting to defend freedom. That is the current that has whirled the young airman up into the sky and keeps him circulating there among the clouds. Down here, with a roof to cover us and a gasmask handy, it is our business to puncture gasbags and discover the seeds of truth.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Monday's child is fair in face, Tuesday's child is full of grace,... Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living; And a child that is born on a Christmas day, Is fair and wise, good and gay.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
And whether it is Thursday, or the day is stormy, With thunder and rain, or the birds attack each other,... We have rolled into another dream.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »