Caroline Norton Quotes

We have been friends together in sunshine and in shade.

In the cold change which time hath wrought on love(The snowy winter of his summer prime),Should a chance sigh or sudden tear-drop moveThy heart to memory of the olden time;Turn not to gaze on me with pitying eyes,Nor mock me with a withered hope renewed;But from the bower we both have loved, ariseAnd leave me to my barren solitude!What boots it that a momentary flameShoots from the ashes of a dying fire?We gaze upon the hearth from whence it came,And know the exhausted embers must expire:Therefore no pity, or my heart will break;Be cold, be careless--for thy past love's sake!

Silent companions of the lonely hour,Friends, who can never alter or forsake,Who for inconstant roving have no power,And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take,--Let me return to you; this turmoil endingWhich worldly cares have in my spirit wrought,And, o'er your old familiar pages bending,Refresh my mind with many a tranquil thought:Till, haply meeting there, from time to time,Fancies, the audible echo of my own,'Twill be like hearing in a foreign climeMy native language spoke in friendly tone,And with a sort of welcome I shall dwellOn these, my unripe musings, told so well.

God made all pleasures innocent.

We have been friends together,In sunshine and in shade;

Since first beneath the chestnut-treesIn infancy we played.But coldness dwells within thy heart,A cloud is on thy brow;We have been friends together

They serve God well, who serve his creatures.

Perhaps there will come a time when...an unmarried mother will not be despised because of her motherhood...and when the right of the unborn to be born will not be denied or interfered with.

I do not ask for my rights. I have no rights. I have only wrongs.

Of all the joys that lighten suffering earth, what joy is welcomed like a new born child?

Every poet hopes that after-times Shall set some value on his votive lay.

Until I truly loved, I was alone.

O Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments;

melting heaven with earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams.

For death and life, in ceaseless strife, Beat wild on this world's shore, And all our calm is in that balm— Not lost but gone before.

Old Time, who changes all below, To wean men gently for the grave.

Oh, there at last, life's trials past, / We'll meet our loved ones more, / Whose feet have trod the path to God, -- / Not lost, but gone before.

My beautiful, my beautiful! That standest meekly by, with thy proudly-arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye!

A child's eyes, those clear wells of undefiled thought—what on earth can be more beautiful? Full of hope, love and curiosity, they meet your own.

A woman's suffering is never above half known, for the fact of the publicity of her wrongs is counted to her for disgrace.

A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away.

I am listening for the voices Which I heard in days of old.

Child murderers practice their profession without let or hindrance, and open infant butcheries unquestioned...Is there no remedy for all this ante-natal child murder?

A child's eyes, those clear, wells of undefiled thought - what on earth can be more beautiful? Full of hope, love and curiosity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest; in joy, how sparkling; in sympathy, how tender! The man who never tried the companionship of a little child has carelessly passed by one of the great pleasures of life, as one passes a rare flower without plucking it or knowing its value