658 Quotes by Nathaniel Hawthorne
- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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Nobody will use other people’s experience, nor have any of his own till it is too late to use it.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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The great scene of grief, in which the wild infant bore a part, had developed all her sympathies; and as her tears fell upon her father’s cheek, they were the pledge that she would grow up amid human joy and sorrow, nor for ever do battle with the world, but be a woman in it. Towards her mother, too, Pearl’s errand as a messenger of anguish was all fulfilled.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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Her breast, with its badge of shame, was but the softer pillow for the head that needed one.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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It may serve, let us hope, to symbolise some sweet moral blossom that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale of human frailty and sorrow.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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I never, till now, had a friend who could give me repose; all have disturbed me, and, whether for pleasure or pain, it was still disturbance. But peace overflows from your heart into mine.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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Hester bade little Pearl run down to the margin of the water, and play with the shells and tangled sea-weed, until she should have talked awhile with yonder gatherer of herbs.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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And the higher and purer the original object, and the more unselfishly it may have been taken up, the slighter is the probability that they can be led to recognize the process by which godlike benevolence has been debased into all-devouring egotism.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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I wonder he is not afraid to be alone with himself.” “Men sometimes are so,” said her husband.
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- Author Nathaniel Hawthorne
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The dell was to be left in solitude among its dark, old trees, which, with their multitudinous tongues, would whisper long of what had passed there, and no mortal be the wiser. And the melancholy brook would add this other tale to the mystery with which its little heart was already overburdened, and whereof it still kept up a murmuring babble, with not a whit more cheerfulness of tone than for ages heretofore.
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