In the gates of eternity the black hand and the white hand hold each other with equal clasp.
Harriet Beecher StoweI don't know as I am fit for anything and I have thought that I could wish to die young and let the remembrance of me and my faults perish in the grave rather than live, as I fear I do, a trouble to everyone.... Sometimes I could not sleep and have groaned and cried till midnight.
Harriet Beecher Stowe