After all, let a man take what pains he may to hush it down, a human soul is an awful, ghostly, unquiet possession for a bad man to have. Who knows the metes and bounds of it? Who knows all its awful perhapses,--those shudderings and tremblings, which it can no more live down than it can outlive its own eternity?
Harriet Beecher StoweCome down here once, and use your eyes, and you will know more than we can teach you.
Harriet Beecher StoweThe longest way must have its close - the gloomiest night will wear on to a morning.
Harriet Beecher StoweWhere painting is weakest, namely, in the expression of the highest moral and spiritual ideas, there music is sublimely strong.
Harriet Beecher Stowe