70 Quotes by Helen Hunt Jackson

Dead men tell no tales," says the proverb. One wishes they could. We should miss some spicy contributions to magazine and newspaper literature; and a sudden silence would fall upon some loud-mouthed living.

The goldenrod is yellow,The corn is turning brown...The trees in apple orchardsWith fruit are bending down.

Only a night from old to new;Only a sleep from night to morn.The new is but the old come true;Each sunrise sees a new year born.

When love is at its best, one loves So much that he cannot forget.

When Time is spent, Eternity begins.

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.

O sweet, delusive Noon, Which the morning climbs to find, O moment sped too soon, And morning left behind.