it is a mistake to talk of the twilight of age, or the blurred sight of old people. The long day grows clearer at its close, and the petty fogs of prejudice which rose between us and our fellows in… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Every child was taught from his cradle that money was Mammon, the chief agent of the flesh and the devil. As he grew up… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
War may be an armed angel with a mission, but she has the personal habits of the slums. — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Sitting by the chimney corner as we grow old, the commonest things around us take on live meanings and hint at the difference between… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Before the birth of the New Woman the country was not an intellectual desert, as she is apt to suppose. There were teachers of thehighest grade, and libraries, and countless circles in our towns and villages of scholarly, leisurely folk, who loved books, and music, and Nature, and lived much apart with them. The mad craze for money, which clutches… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share
TO preach a sermon or edit a newspaper were the two things in life which I always felt I could do with credit to… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
“Well, what was it to be a thief? He met the question at last, face to face, wiping the clammy drops of sweat from… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Every child was taught from his cradle that money was Mammon, the chief agent of the flesh and the devil. — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
You were only truly patriotic if you had a laborer for a grandfather and were glad of it. — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Nowhere in this country, from sea to sea, does nature comfort us with such assurance of plenty, such rich and tranquil beauty as in… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
Reform is born of need, not pity. No vital movement of the people has worked down, for good or evil; fermented, instead, carried up… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
It is a good rule never to see or talk to the man whose words have wrung your heart, or helped it, just as… — Rebecca Harding Davis Copy Share Image
