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 bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
Harriet Beecher StoweGod has always been to me not so much like a father as like a dear and tender mother.
Harriet Beecher StoweReligion! Is what you hear at church religion? Is that which can bend and turn, and descend and ascend, to fit every crooked phase of selfish, worldly society, religion? Is that religion which is less scrupulous, less generous, less just, less considerate for man, than even my own ungodly, worldly, blinded nature? No! When I look for religion, I must look for something above me, and not something beneath.
Harriet Beecher Stowe