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The Old Poets Little Knew What Comfort They Could Be To A Man.

-Sarah Orne Jewett

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The Old Poets Little

Sarah Orne Jewett

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The Old Poets Little Knew What Comfort They Could Be To A Man.

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You Must Find Your Own Quiet Center Of Life, And Write From That To The World.

Love Isn't Blind; It's Only Love That Sees!

The Warm Sun Kissed The Earthto Consecrate Thy Birth,and From His Close Embracethy Radiant Facesprang Into Sight,a Blossoming Delight.

Do Not Hurry Too Fast In These Early Winter Days, - A Quiet Hour Is Worth More To You Than Anything You Can Do In It.

The Thing That Teases The Mind Over And Over For Years, And At Last Gets Itself Put Down Rightly On Paper - Whether Little Or Great, It Belongs To Literature.

Write It As It Is, Don't Try To Make It Like This Or That. You Can't Do It In Anybody Else's Way-you Will Have To Make A Way Of Your Own.

You Never Get Over Bein' A Child Long's You Have A Mother To Go To.

We Have These Instincts Which Defy All Our Wisdom And For Which We Never Can Frame Any Laws. ... They Are Powers Which Are Imperfectly Developed In This Life, But One Cannot Help The Thought That The Mystery Of This World May Be The Commonplace Of The Next.

I've Found That People Who Look At Things As They Are, And Not As They Wish Them To Be, Are The Ones Who Succeed.

Life Was Resumed, And Anxious Living Blew Away As If It Had Not Been. I Could Not Breathe Deep Enough Or Long Enough. It Was A Return To Happiness.

It Seems To Me Like Stealing, For Men And Women To Live In The World And Do Nothing To Make It Better.

To Let God Make Us, Instead Of Painfully Trying To Make Ourselves; To Follow The Path That His Love Shows Us, Instead Of Through Conceit Or Cowardice Or Mockery Choosing Another; To Trust Him For Our Strength And Fitness As The Flowers Do, Simply Giving Ourselves Back To Him In Grateful Service,—this Is To Keep The Laws That Give Us The Freedom Of The City In Which There Is No Longer Any Night Of Bewilderment Or Ignorance Or Uncertainty.

Don't Scatter Your Fire! You Are A Prose Writer: Stick To Your Own Tool!

It Is Only Unimaginative Persons Who Can Be Really Astonished. The Imagination Can Always Outrun The Possible And Actual Sights And Sounds Of The World.

My Dear Father; My Dear Friend; The Best And Wisest Man I Ever Knew, Who Taught Me Many Lessons And Showed Me Many Things As We Went Together Along The Country By-ways.

What's Everybody's Business Is Nobody's Business.

It Does Seem So Pleasant To Talk With An Old Acquaintance Who Knows What You Know. I See So Many New Folks Nowadays Who Seem To Have Neither Past Nor Future. Conversation Has Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You Have Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, And It Wears A Person Out.

My Friends Plunged Into A Borderless Sea Of Reminiscences And Personal News.

When She Walked...she Stretched Out Long And Thin Like A Little Tiger, And Held Her Head High To Look Over The Grass As If She Were Treading The Jungle.

This Was One Of Those Perfect New England Days In Late Summer Where The Spirit Of Autumn Takes A First Stealing Flight, Like A Spy, Through The Ripening Country-side, And, With Feigned Sympathy For Those Who Droop With August Heat, Puts Her Cool Cloak Of Bracing Air About Leaf And Flower And Human Shoulders.

The Process Of Falling In Love At First Sight Is As Final As It Is Swift In Such A Case, But The Growth Of True Friendship May Be A Lifelong Affair.

Falling In Love

Conversation's Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You've Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, An' It Wears A Person Out.

My Childhood Is Very Vivid To Me, And I Don't Feel Very Different Now From The Way I Felt Then. It Would Appear I Am The Very Same Person, Only With Wrinkles.

Look Bravely Up Into The Sky, And Be Content With Knowing That God Wished For A Buttercup Just Here, Where You Are Growing.

A Lean Sorrow Is Hardest To Bear.

Yes'm, Old Friends Is Always Best, 'less You Can Catch A New One That's Fit To Make An Old One Out Of.

A Harbor, Even If It Is A Little Harbor, Is A Good Thing, Since Adventurers Come Into It As Well As Go Out, And The Life In It Grows Strong, Because It Takes Something From The World, And Has Something To Give In Return.

The Mysterious Moment Of Death Proves To Be A Moment Of Waking. How One Longs To Take It For One's Self!

In The Life Of Each Of Us There Is A Place Remote And Islanded, And Given To Endless Regret Or Secret Happiness.

There's Some Herb That's Good For Everybody, Except For Them That Thinks They're Sick When They Ain't.

Some Set More By Such Things As Come From A Distance, But I Rec'lect Mother Always Used To Maintain That Folks Was Meant To Be Doctored With The Stuff That Grew Right About 'em.

Satisfaction, Even After One Has Dined Well, Is Not So Interesting And Eager A Feeling As Hunger.

The Growth Of True Friendship May Be A Lifelong Affair.

It Is A Splendid Thing To Have The Use Of Any Gift Of God. It Isn't For Us To Choose Again, Or Wonder And Dispute, But Just Work In Our Own Places, And Leave The Rest To God.

In The Life Of Each Of Us, I Said To Myself, There Is A Place Remote And Islanded, And Given To Endless Regret Or Secret Happiness; We Are Each The Uncompanioned Hermit And Recluse Of An Hour Or A Day; We Understand Our Fellows Of The Cell To Whatever Age Of History They May Belong.

It Is Not Often Given In A Noisy World To Come To The Places Of Great Grief And Silence.

Wrecked On The Lee Shore Of Age.

There Was A Patient Look On The Old Man's Face, As If The World Were A Great Mistake And He Had Nobody With Whom To Speak His Own Language Or Find Companionship.

In These Days The Young Folks Is All Copy-cats, 'fraid To Death They Won't Be All Just Alike; As For The Old Folks, They Pray For The Advantage O' Bein' A Little Different.

God Would Not Give Us The Same Talent If What Were Right For Men Were Wrong For Women.

The Old Poets Little Knew What Comfort They Could Be To A Man.

A Story Should Be Managed So That It Should Suggest Interesting Things To The Reader Instead Of The Author's Doing All The Thinking For Him, And Setting It Before Him In Black And White.

Black And White

There Is Something Out Of Gear About Graded Schools And All That. Memory Is Developed At The Expense Of What In General We Are Pleased To Call Thought And Character.

Who Was It Said That You Never Get To A Place Until A Day After You Come, Nor Leave It Until A Day After You Go?

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If You Don't Keep And Guard And Mature Your Force, And Above All, Have Time And Quiet To Perfect Your Work, You Will Be Writing Things Not Much Better Than You Did Five Years Ago. ... You Must Write To The Human Heart, The Great Consciousness That All Humanity Goes To Make Up. Otherwise What Might Be Strength In A Writer Is Only Crudeness, And What Might Be Insight Is Only Observation; Sentimemnt Falls To Sentimentality - You Can Write About Life, But Never Write Life Itself.

I've Got 's Much Feelin' As The Next One, But When Folks Drives In Their Spiggits And Wants To Draw A Bucketful O' Compassion Every Day Right Straight Along, There Does Come Times When It Seems As If The Bar'l Was Getting Low.

Your Patience May Have Long To Wait,whether In Little Things Or Great,but All Good Luck, You Soon Will Learn,must Come To Those Who Nobly Earn.who Hunts The Hay-field Overwill Find The Four-leaved Clover.

Such A Nice Day - Out All Day Up In The Carter Notch Direction, Trout-fishing, With The Long Drive There And The Long Drive Home Again In Time For Supper. It Was A Lovely Brook And I Caught Seven Good Trout And One Small One - Which Eight Trout-persons You Should Have For Your Breakfast If Only You Were Near Enough. It Was Not Alone The Fishing, But The Delightful Loneliness And Being Out Of Doors.

It Is The People Who Can Do Nothing Who Find Nothing To Do, And The Secret To Happiness In This World Is Not Only To Be Useful, But To Be Forever Elevating One's Uses.

So We Die Before Our Own Eyes; So We See Some Chapters Of Our Lives Come To Their Natural End.

Tain't Worthwhile To Wear A Day All Out Before It Comes.

Imagination Is The Only True Thing In The World!

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