Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward Quotes
Write, if you must; not otherwise. Do not write, if you can earn a fair living at teaching or dressmaking, at electricity or hod-carrying. Make shoes, weed cabbages, survey land, keep house, make ice-cream, sell cake, climb a telephone pole. Nay, be a lightning-rod peddler or a book agent, before you set your heart upon it that you shall write for a living.... Living? It is more likely to be dying by your pen; despairing by your pen; burying hope and heart and youth and courage in your ink-stand.
Quotes to Explore
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The censor's sword pierces deeply into the heart of free expression.
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I believe we are created in the image of God for a particular purpose, and I believe that with all my heart.
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I have a big heart.
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I don't have any formula. I just work with my heart, putting in a lot of hard work.
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I put my heart in my work.
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And as long as your cats is loyal to what y'all are standing for, and they know how to play the game, it should be no way you can lose. It's about compromising; it's about respecting one another's position, and about going with your heart as far as what you believe in.
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I have created a new genre. It is a soulful creation that comes straight from my heart.
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And they write innumerable books; being too vain and distracted for silence: seeking every one after his own elevation, and dodging his emptiness.
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The learning of the gentleman enters through his ears, fastens to his heart, spreads through his four limbs, and manifests itself in his actions. ... The learning of the petty person enters through his ears and passes out his mouth. From mouth to ears is only four inches—how could it be enough to improve a whole body much larger than that?
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18. The deeply learned ones know the mind as the directly expressed meaning of the supreme knowledge. The heart is the meaning aimed at. The Supreme is none other than the heart.
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Don't lie to me! Don't seem so normal when I know you have cut yourself off from me in your heart! If you can put on our affectionate closeness like a mask, then I'll never be able to take joy in it again.
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England was merry England, whenOld Christmas brought his sports again.‘Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale;‘Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poor man’s heart through half the year.
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I was 9 years old when my father - a strong, vibrant man in his early 40s - died of a heart attack. He was such a central figure in our lives that losing him was a terrible shock to all of us, my mother in particular.
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I'm not sure. But that bless-his/her-heart kind of melancholic humor is among my favorite things in the world. I guess it exposes a kind of humanity - or that's the hope, at least - a kind of grudging respect for human frailty. Unless it's actually kicking human frailty while it's down - I'm not sure.
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Home is where the heart is.
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This whole world is wild at heart and weird on top.
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Nobody needs a smile so much as the one who has none to give. So get used to smiling heart-warming smiles, and you will spread sunshine in a sometimes dreary world.
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Always keep an open mind and a compassionate heart.
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I have never written a word that did not come from my heart. I never shall.
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I love to personalize things. I love to make things my own. I like to name everything - from cars to iPhones to the socks I just lost.
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If you wanted a safe job, go sell shoes. This is a tough business.
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If you're against war, you're against war regardless of what happens. It's a wrong method of trying to settle a dispute.
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In Matthew, Jesus declares, “Whoever is not with me is against me.” In Mark, he says,“Whoever is not against us is for us.” Did he say both things? Could he mean both things? How can both be true at once? Or is it possible that one of the Gospel writers got things switched around?
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Write, if you must; not otherwise. Do not write, if you can earn a fair living at teaching or dressmaking, at electricity or hod-carrying. Make shoes, weed cabbages, survey land, keep house, make ice-cream, sell cake, climb a telephone pole. Nay, be a lightning-rod peddler or a book agent, before you set your heart upon it that you shall write for a living.... Living? It is more likely to be dying by your pen; despairing by your pen; burying hope and heart and youth and courage in your ink-stand.
