Out of the fragrant heart of bloom, The bobolinks are singing; Out of the fragrant heart of bloom The apple-tree whispers to the room, "Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing? — William Dean Howells Copy Share Image
It is the still, small voice that the soul heeds, not the deafening blasts of doom. — William Dean Howells Copy Share
“How strange it (the earthquake) must all have seemed to them, here where they lived so safely always! They thought such a dreadful thing… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
n artistic atmosphere does not create artists a literary atmosphere does not create literators; poets and painters spring up where there was never a… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
Preach the blessings of our deeply incorporated civilization by the mouths of our eight-inch guns. — William Dean Howells Copy Share
If we like a man's dream, we call him a reformer; if we don't like his dream, we call him a crank. — William Dean Howells Copy Share
The action is best that secures the greatest happiness for the greatest number. — William Dean Howells Copy Share
“If he was not commonplace, it was through nothing remarkable in his mind, which was simply clear and practical, but through some combination of… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
Is it worth while to observe that there are no Venetian blinds in Venice? — William Dean Howells Copy Share
The swelling and towering omnibuses, the huge trucks and wagons and carriages, the impetuous hansoms and the more sobered four-wheelers, the pony-carts, donkey-carts, hand-carts,… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
“Our theory of disaster, of sorrow, of affliction, borrowed from the poets and novelist, is that it is incessant; but every passage in our… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
Christ and the life of Christ is at this moment inspiring the literature of the world as never before, and raising it up a… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
“It's easy enough to be sensible for other people. But when it comes to myself, there I am! Especially, when I want to do… — William Dean Howells Copy Share
