70 Quotes by Helen Hunt Jackson

Next time!" In what calendar are kept the records of those next times which never come?

Gazing around, looking up at the lofty pinnacles above, which seemed to pierce the sky, looking down upon the world,--it seemed the whole world, so limitless it stretched away at her feet,--feeling that infinite unspeakable sense of nearness to Heaven, remoteness from earth which comes only on mountain heights, she drew in a long breath of delight, and cried: "At last! at last, Alessandro! Here we are safe! This is freedom! This is joy!

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?

Why did i halt and weakly tremble?Even in heaven the memory smote --Fool to be dumb and to dissemble!Alas, for the song I never wrote.

Father, I scarcely dare to pray, So clear I see, now it is done,That I have wasted half my day And left my work but just begun. "A Last Prayer"

Stain my eyes as I may, on all sides all is black.

But undying memories stood like sentinels in her breast. When the notes of doves, calling to each other, fell on her ear, her eyes sought the sky, and she heard a voice saying, "Majella!

Will not the Senorita trust me?"Ramona smiled faintly through her tears. "Yes," she said. "I will trust you. You are Alessandro, are you not?""Yes, Senorita," he answered, greatly surprised, "I am Alessandro.

The wild mustard in Southern California is like that spoken of in the New Testament. . . . Its gold is as distinct a value to the eye as the nugget gold is in the pocket.