Harriet Beecher Stowe
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Harriet Elisabeth Beecher Stowewas an American abolitionist and author. She came from a famous religious family and is best known for her novel Uncle Tom's Cabin. It depicts the harsh life for African Americans under slavery. It reached millions as a novel and play, and became influential in the United States and Great Britain. It energized anti-slavery forces in the American North, while provoking widespread anger in the South. She wrote 30 books, including novels, three travel memoirs, and collections...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNon-Fiction Author
Date of Birth14 June 1811
CityLitchfield, CT
CountryUnited States of America
A woman's health is her capital.
In all ranks of life the human heart yearns for the beautiful; and the beautiful things that God makes are his gift to all alike.
...the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.
We should remember in our dealings with animals that they are a sacred trust to us from our Heavenly Father. They are dumb and cannot speak for themselves.
True love ennobles and dignifies the material labors of life; and homely services rendered for love's sake have in them a poetry that is immortal.
Friendships are discovered rather than made.
Human nature is above all things lazy.
Of course, in a novel, people's hearts break, and they die and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.
Any mind that is capable of real sorrow is capable of good.
Most mothers are instinctive philosophers.
I am one of the sort that lives by throwing stones at other people's glass houses, but I never mean to put up one for them to stone.
For how imperiously, how coolly, in disregard of all one’s feelings, does the hard, cold, uninteresting course of daily realities move on! Still we must eat, and drink, and sleep, and wake again, - still bargain, buy, sell, ask and answer questions, - pursue, in short, a thousand shadows, though all interest in them be over; the cold, mechanical habit of living remaining, after all vital interest in it has fled.
O, with what freshness, what solemnity and beauty, is each new day born; as if to say to insensate man, "Behold! thou hast one more chance! Strive for immortal glory!
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.