Once in an age God sends to some of us a friend who loves in us, not a false-imagining, an unreal character, but looking through the rubbish of our imperfections, loves in us the divine ideal of our nature,--loves, not the man that we are, but the angel that we may be.
Harriet Beecher StoweThe greater the interest involved in a truth the more careful, self-distrustful, and patient should be the inquiry.
Harriet Beecher Stowethere is no independence and pertinacity of opinion like that of these seemingly soft, quiet creatures, whom it is so easy to silence, and so difficult to convince.
Harriet Beecher StoweNo one is so thoroughly superstitious as the godless man. Life and death to him are haunted grounds, filled with goblin forms of vague and shadowy dread.
Harriet Beecher Stowe