Helen Hunt Jackson Quotes

37 Sourced Quotes

'Next time!' In what calendar are kept the records of those next times which never come?

Helen Hunt Jackson

The mighty are brought low by many a thing
Too small to name. Beneath the daisy's disk
Lies hid the pebble for the fatal sling.

Helen Hunt Jackson

The wild mustard in Southern California is like that spoken of in the New Testament.... Its gold is as distinct a value to the eye as the nugget gold is in the pocket.

Helen Hunt Jackson

All lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love;
No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love.

Helen Hunt Jackson

Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;
And reigns the winter's pregnant silence still;
No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,
And willow stems grow daily red and bright.
These are days when ancients held a rite
Of expiation for the old year's ill,
And prayer to purify the new year's will.

Helen Hunt Jackson

The lands are lit with all the autumn blaze of golden-rod, and everywhere the purple asters nod and bend and wave and flit.

Helen Hunt Jackson

Nothing can be so bad as to be displeased with one's self.

Helen Hunt Jackson

Helen Hunt Jackson

Helen Hunt Jackson

Creative Commons

Born: October 15, 1830

Died: August 12, 1885 (aged 54)

Bio: Helen Maria Hunt Jackson, born Helen Fiske, was an American poet and writer who became an activist on behalf of improved treatment of Native Americans by the U.S. government.

Known for:

Ramona (1884)
A Century of Dishonor (1881)
Letters from a cat (1879)
A Calendar Of Sonnets
Mercy Philbrick's Choice (1876)

Most used words:

Helen Hunt Jackson on Wikipedia

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