What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent, unspe |
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent, unspe |
What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent, unspe |
What greater thing is there for two human souls that to feel that they are joined... to strengthen each other... to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories. |
What is opportunity to the man who can't use it? |
What quarrel, what harshness, what unbelief in each other can subsist in the presence of a great calamity, when all the artificial vesture of our life is gone, and we are all one with each other in primitive mortal needs? |
When death comes it is never our tenderness that we repent from, but our severity. |
When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, writing is less unsatisfactory than speech - one does not, at least, hear how inadequate the words are |
When we get to wishing a great deal for ourselves, whatever we get soon turns into mere limitation and exclusion. |
Where women love each other, men learn to smother their mutual dislike. |
Whether happiness may come or not, one should try and prepare one's self to do without it. |
Will not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? |
With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: it is a still quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavours and the tinglings of a merited shame. |
Worldly faces never look so worldly as at a funeral |
Worldly faces never look so worldly as at a funeral. They have the same effect of grating incongruity as the sound of a coarse voice breaking the solemn silence of night. |