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Not only was he ignorant, but he had not even those conditions within himself which made knowledge possible. All that there was developed of him, at … - Harriet Beecher Stowe
" "Not only was he ignorant, but he had not even those conditions within himself which made knowledge possible. All that there was developed of him, at present, was a fund of energy, self-esteem, hope, courage, and daring, the love of action, life, and adventure; his life was in the outward and present, not in the inward and reflective; he was a true ten-year old boy, in its healthiest and most animal perfection. What she was, the small pearl with the golden hair, with her frail and high-strung organization, her sensitive nerves, her half-spiritual fibres, her ponderings, and marvels, and dreams, her power of love, and yearning for self-devotion, our readers may, perhaps, have seen. But if ever two children, or two grown people, thus organized, are thrown into intimate relations, it follows, from the very laws of their being, that one must hurt the other, simply by being itself; one must always hunger for what the other has not to give.
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About Harriet Beecher Stowe
Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe (14 June 1811 – 1 July 1896) was an American abolitionist and writer, most famous as the author of the anti-slavery novel Uncle Tom's Cabin.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Birth Name:
Elizabeth Harriet Beecher
Native Name:
Harriet Beecher
Alternative Names:
Christopher Crowfield
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Harriet Elizabeth Beecher Stowe
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Enrieta Elizabeth Beecher Stowe
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Harriet Elizabeth Beecher
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Harriet Elisabeth Beecher Stowe
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Harriet Elizabeth Beecher-Stowe
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Additional quotes by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Has there ever been a child like Eva? Yes, there have been ; but their names are always on gravestones, and their sweet smiles, their heavenly eyes, their singular words and ways, are among the buried treasures of yearning hearts. In how many families do you hear the legend that all the goodness and graces of the living are nothing to the peculiar charms of one who is not I It is as if Heaven had an especial band of angels, whose office it was to sojourn for a season here, and en dear to them the wayward human heart, that they might bear it upward with them in their homeward flight. When you see that deep, spiritual light in the eye — when the little soul reveals itself in words sweeter and wiser than the ordinary words of children — hope not to retain that child ; for the seal of Heaven is on it, and the light of immortality looks out from its eyes.
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Religion! Is what you hear at church religion? Is that which can bend and turn, and descend and ascend, to fit every crooked phase of selfish, worldly society, religion? Is that religion which is less scrupulous, less generous, less just, less considerate for man, than even my own ungodly, worldly, blinded nature? No! When I look for religion, I must look for something above me, and not something beneath.
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