Blessed be sleep! We are all young then; we are all happy. Then our dead are living. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
Oh! to be a child again. My only treasures, bits of shell and stone and glass. To love nothing but maple sugar. To fear nothing but a big dog. To go to sleep without dreading the morrow. To wake up… — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
“I've as good a right to preserve the healthy body God gave me, as if I were not a woman.” — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
It is the most astonishing thing that persons who have not sufficient education to spell correctly, to punctuate properly, to place capital letters in… — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
Well, it is a humiliating reflection, that the straightest road to a man's heart is through his palate. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
When a literary person's exhaustive work is over, the last thing he wishes to do is to talk books. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
I am getting sick of people. I am falling in love with things. They hold their tongues. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
Nowhere more than in New York does the contest between squalor and splendor so sharply present itself. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
There are no little things. "Little things," so called, are the hinges of the universe. — Fanny Fern Copy Share Image
