Harriet Beecher Stowe

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The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone

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the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence

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Common sense is seeing things as they are; and doing things as they ought to be

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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. There is a most busy and important round of eating, drinking, dressing, walking, visiting, buying, selling, talking, reading, and all that makes up what is commonly called living, yet to be gone through…

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There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows all spring up into joys for others; whose earthly hopes, laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate and the distressed