Dinah Maria Mulock Craik Quotes

and we will have such a splendid row on grandfather’s big pond. How nice it will be!” Annie kissed the child, who was her favourite among them all, for he seemed to love her best, and had called her “sister Annie” from the first; but still she said firmly, “We will have a beautiful row when spring comes, Willie; but on Thursday I had much rather stay at home with Rhoda!

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

It is one of my decided opinions that married people ought to have no one, be the tie ever so close and dear, living permanently with them, to break the sacred duality — no, let me say the unity of their home.

A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.

It is not the things we see, but the mind we see them with, which makes the real interest of travelling.

I felt a weight on my chest; a sense of hot indignation which settled down into inconceivable melancholy.

Oh, the comfort — the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person — having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

I watched too, with that sort of lonely delight — the one shadow upon it being that it is so lonely — with which all one's life one is accustomed to watch beautiful and vanishing things.

I could hear the voice that, speaking to me, was always tender with pity — yet not pity enough to wound: I could see the peculiar smile just creeping round his grave mouth — that irrepressible smile, indicating the atmosphere of thorough heart-cheerfulness, which ripens all the fruits of a noble nature, and without which the very noblest has about it something unwholesome, blank, and cold.

A preface is usually an excrescence on a good book, and a vain apology for a worthless one;

What a world it was! Literally swimming in sunshine, from the sparkling sea in the distance, to the beds of marigolds close by — huge marigolds, double and single, mingled with carnations that filled the air with rich autumnal scent, all the more delicious because we feel it is autumnal, and therefore cannot last.

When, two years before the time of our story, the school was in want of a mistress, Winifred Lee had presented herself before the churchwardens, and asked for the situation. She won upon them so much with her meek ways, that they gave it to her without any questioning. Only after all was settled, one of them, glancing at her mourning dress and her wedding-ring, observed that of course she was a widow, and without children, as such only were eligible to the situation. Winifred Lee answered, “No; that she was not a widow.” While she spoke, her cheek crimsoned, and her eyes filled with tears. The churchwarden was a kindhearted man, and asked no further, but said cheerfully that rules were made to be broken, and, whether widow or not, she should be the schoolmistress still. And more than this no one in the parish knew of Winifred Lee. Nevertheless, she was generally liked, for she had always some little kindness ready for every one; and in her own school she was warmly beloved.

It was delightful to wake up early and refreshed, and come down to this sunshiny, cheerful breakfast-table, where, though nothing was grand, all was thoroughly comfortable.

The lad, like many another, owed nothing to his father but his mere existence — Heaven knows whether that gift is oftenest a curse or a boon.

The sheriff listened uneasily to a sound, very uncommon at elections, of the populace expressing an opinion contrary to that of the lord of the soil.