There were in this strange nature, depths so awful and profound that it was not to be sounded or to be judged as others were. But one thing could have melted or caused the unconquerable spirit to bend, and this was the overwhelming passion of love--not a slight, tender feeling, but a great and powerful one, such as could be awakened but by a being of as strong and deep a nature as itself, one who was in all things its peer.
Frances Hodgson BurnettTags: love
...if He made us, He must know He is to blame when He has made us weak or evil. And He must understand why we have been so made, and when we throw ourselves into the dust before Him, and pray for help and pardon, surely--surely He will lend an ear!
Frances Hodgson BurnettThe great strength she had used in the old days to conquer and subdue, to win her will and to defend her way, seemed now a power but to protect the suffering and uphold the weak, and this she did, not alone in hovels but in the brilliant court and world of fashion, for there she found suffering and weakness also, all the more bitter and sorrowful since it dared not cry aloud.
Frances Hodgson BurnettTags: inspirational-quotes suffering mercy quality charity succor
And a man who is six feet three in height has six feet and three inches of evil to do battle with, if he has not six feet three of strength and honesty to fight for him.
Frances Hodgson BurnettTis a barbaric fancy," said Roxholm thoughtfully as he turned the stem of his glass, keeping his eyes fixed on it as though solving a problem for himself. "A barbaric fancy that a woman needs a master. She who is strong enough is her own conqueror--as a man should be master of himself.
Frances Hodgson BurnettTags: women
Credo che molti non sappiano quanto si celi dietro una storia, quante parti non ne siano state raccontate, quanto di più sia accaduto rispetto a quello che leggono nel libro che tengono fra le mani e in cui si immergono.
Le storie sono un po' come le lettere. Dopo avere scritto una lettera, quante volte si pensa: «Ah, perchè non ho detto questa cosa?». Scrivendo un libro, si racconta ciò che si ricorda in quel momento, e se si dovesse narrare tutto quello che è davvero successo, non si arriverebbe mai alla fine. Fra le righe di una storia c'è sempre un'altra storia, che non è mai stata ascoltata e può solo essere indovinata da chi ha abbastanza intuizione per farlo. La persona che scrive potrà anche non saperne mai niente, ma a volte lo sa, e vorrebbe poter ricominciare da capo.
Two things cannot be in one place. Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow.
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