Quotes from Harriet Beecher Stowe

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and the rivers they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee; for I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour.

Ye who have wondered to hear, in the same evangel, that God is love, and that God is a consuming fire, see ye not how, to the soul resolved in evil, perfect love is the most fearful torture, the seal and sentence of the direst despair?

They knelt together, and the good man prayed,—for there are some feelings so agitated and tumultuous, that they can find rest only by being poured into the bosom of Almighty love,—and then, rising up, the new-found family embraced each other, with a holy trust in Him, who from such peril and dangers, and by such unknown ways, had brought them together.

That's you Christians, all over!—you'll get up a society, and get some poor missionary to spend all his days among just such heathen. But let me see one of you that would take one into your house with you, and take the labor of their conversion on yourselves! No; when it comes to that, they are dirty and disagreeable, and it's too much care, and so on.

Eliza's steady, consistent piety, regulated by the constant reading of the sacred word, made her a proper guide for the shattered and wearied mind of her mother. Cassy yielded at once, and with her whole soul, to every good influence, and became a devout and tender Christian.

hers was one of those faces that time seems to touch only to brighten and adorn.

They that cannot govern themselves cannot govern others (Pg. 238).

O, ye who take freedom from man, with what words shall ye answer it to God?

if you only trust in God, and try to do right, he'll deliver you.

Patience! patience! ye whose hearts swell indignant at wrongs like these. Not one throb of anguish, not one tear of the oppressed, is forgotten by the Man of Sorrows, the Lord of Glory. In his patient, generous bosom he bears the anguish of a world. Bear thou, like him, in patience, and labor in love; for sure as he is God, "the year of his redeemed shall come.

The slave is always a tyrant, if he can get a chance to be one.

But what needs tell the story, told too oft,—every day told,—of heart-strings rent and broken,—the weak broken and torn for the profit and convenience of the strong! It needs not to be told;—every day is telling it,—telling it, too, in the ear of One who is not deaf, though he be long silent.

The book is commended to the candid attention and earnest prayers of all true Christians, throughout the world. May they unite their prayers that Christendom may be delivered from so great an evil as slavery

heavy gold watch-chain, with a bundle of seals of portentous size, and a great variety of colors, attached to it,—which, in the ardor of conversation, he was in the habit of flourishing and jingling with evident satisfaction. His conversation was in free and easy defiance of

Now, I've been laughed at for my notions, sir, and I've been talked to.

Well," said Miss Ophelia, "do you think slavery right or wrong?" "I'm not going to have any of your horrid New England directness, cousin," said St. Clare, gayly.

Of course, in a novel, people's hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.

Lor, if the devil don't get them, what's he good for?

I tell you,' said Augustine, 'if there is anything that is revealed with the strength of a divine law in our times, it is that the masses are to rise, and the under class become the upper one.

A very humane jurist once said, 'The worst use you can put a man to is to hang him.' No; there is another use that a man can be put to that is worse!

Never say there isn't enough time for a thing that ought to be done. If a thing is necessary, why, life is long enough to find a place for it.

Marie always had a headache on hand for any conversation that did not exactly suit her.

They will rise, and raise with them their mother's side

My father showed the exact sort of talent for a statesman. He could have divided Poland as easily as an orange, or trod on Ireland as quietly and systematically as any living.