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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall). Search the whole document.
Found 10 total hits in 6 results.
Wayland (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 108
To Miss Lucy Searle. Wayland, 1862.
So you dispute Gerrit Smith's testimony about my being wise and candid ? I cannot say I have much respect for my wisdom.
I think less and less of it every year I live.
But when I write for the public, I think I am generally candid.
I do not profess to be so in my talk, because that bubbles up, and I do not take time to examine its spirit.
We all present different phases of character, according to circumstances, and I think I do so more than most people.
It is natural enough that Gerrit Smith should deem me wise.
When I approach him, I don't go dancing on a slack rope, decorated with spangles and Psyche-wings; I walk on solid ground, as demurely as if I were going to meeting, with psalm book in hand.
If I happen to catch a glimpse of a fairy by the way, she and I wink at each other, but I never let on.
He supposes the chosen teachers of my mind to be profound statesmen and pious Christian Fathers.
I never introduce to him any of my acqu
Lucy Searle (search for this): chapter 108
To Miss Lucy Searle. Wayland, 1862.
So you dispute Gerrit Smith's testimony about my being wise and candid ? I cannot say I have much respect for my wisdom.
I think less and less of it every year I live.
But when I write for the public, I think I am generally candid.
I do not profess to be so in my talk, because that bubbles up, and I do not take time to examine its spirit.
We all present different phases of character, according to circumstances, and I think I do so more than most people.
It is natural enough that Gerrit Smith should deem me wise.
When I approach him, I don't go dancing on a slack rope, decorated with spangles and Psyche-wings; I walk on solid ground, as demurely as if I were going to meeting, with psalm book in hand.
If I happen to catch a glimpse of a fairy by the way, she and I wink at each other, but I never let on.
He supposes the chosen teachers of my mind to be profound statesmen and pious Christian Fathers.
I never introduce to him any of my acqua
Sarah Shaw (search for this): chapter 108
Gerrit Smith (search for this): chapter 108
To Miss Lucy Searle. Wayland, 1862.
So you dispute Gerrit Smith's testimony about my being wise and candid ? I cannot say I have much respect for my wisdom.
I think less and less of it every year I live.
But when I write for the public, I think I am generally candid.
I do not profess to be so in my talk, because that bubbl ne its spirit.
We all present different phases of character, according to circumstances, and I think I do so more than most people.
It is natural enough that Gerrit Smith should deem me wise.
When I approach him, I don't go dancing on a slack rope, decorated with spangles and Psyche-wings; I walk on solid ground, as demurely as sitors.
Dear Sarah Shaw likes to see fanciful dancing on moon-beams, and when I write to her I sometimes caracole in a fashion that would make good, sensible Gerrit Smith wonder what had become of the wisdom of his sage friend . .
I suppose George's indignation against England is not abated by her recent manifestations.
I th
Harriet Martineau (search for this): chapter 108
1862 AD (search for this): chapter 108
To Miss Lucy Searle. Wayland, 1862.
So you dispute Gerrit Smith's testimony about my being wise and candid ? I cannot say I have much respect for my wisdom.
I think less and less of it every year I live.
But when I write for the public, I think I am generally candid.
I do not profess to be so in my talk, because that bubbles up, and I do not take time to examine its spirit.
We all present different phases of character, according to circumstances, and I think I do so more than most people.
It is natural enough that Gerrit Smith should deem me wise.
When I approach him, I don't go dancing on a slack rope, decorated with spangles and Psyche-wings; I walk on solid ground, as demurely as if I were going to meeting, with psalm book in hand.
If I happen to catch a glimpse of a fairy by the way, she and I wink at each other, but I never let on.
He supposes the chosen teachers of my mind to be profound statesmen and pious Christian Fathers.
I never introduce to him any of my acqua