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Sarah Josepha Hale Quotes
b. 1788 United States
Sarah Josepha Buell Hale (October 24, 1788 – April 30, 1879) was an American writer, activist, and editor of the most widely circulated magazine in the period before the Civil War, Godey's Lady's Book. She was the author of the nursery rhyme "Mary Had a Little Lamb".
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Oh! wondrous power, how little understood, Entrusted to the Mother's mind alone To fashion genius, form the soul for good, Inspire a West, or train a Washington!
What a ready passport wealth gives its possessor to the good opinions of this world!
A man is never more self satisfied than when he is confirming a favorite theory.
Woman's empire, holier, more refined, Moulds, moves and sways the fall'n but God-breathed mind, Lifting the earth-crushed heart to hope and heaven.
What has made this nation great? Not its heroes, but its households.
Readers soon tire of prefaces, and skip them, and so the labor of writing them is lost.
And you each gentle animal In confidence may bind, And make them follow at your call, If you are always kind.
Rugged strength and radiant beauty— These were one in nature's plan; Humble toil and heavenward duty— These will form the perfect man!
What in the rising man was industry and economy, becomes in the rich man parsimony and avarice.
What matter though the scorn of fools be given, If the path followed lead us on to heaven!
Beauty was lent to nature as the type Of heaven's unspeakable and holy joy, Where all perfection makes the sum of bliss.
The violet bank, the moss-fringed seat Beneath the drooping tree.
The most welcome guest in society will ever be the one to whose mind every thing is a suggestion, and whose words suggest something to everybody.
There is hardly a more heart-thrilling pleasure enjoyed by mortals, than that which parents feel when seeing their child first being able to 'catch knowledge of objects.'
There are few sensations more painful than in the midst of deep grief, to know the season which we have always associated with mirth and rejoicing is at hand.
Away with private wrongs! We'll not go forth To fight for these — but for the rights of men.
It requires but a few threads of hope, for the heart that is skilled in the secret, to weave a web of happiness.
Nor need we power or splendor, Wide halls or lordly dome, The good, the true, the tender, These form the wealth of home.
Happiness is, in truth, a very cheap thing when the heart will be contented to traffic with nature—art has quite a different price.
All that I intended was, that self-control, in every station and to every individual, is indispensable, if people would retain that equanimity of mind, which depending on self-respect, is the essential of contentment and happiness.
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