I am the mother that bore you and your sorrow is my agony and if you dont hate her i do
Then mother you make me love her more. She is unjustly treated by you and I must make the balance even.
Elizabeth Gaskell
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She freshens me up above a bit. Whod ha thought that face as bright and as strong as the angel I dream of could have known the sorrow she speaks on I wonder how shell sin. All on us must sing.
- Elizabeth Gaskell -
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He came up straight to her father whose hands he took and wrung without a word holding them in his for a minute or two during which time his face his eyes his look told of more sympathy than could be put into words.
- Elizabeth Gaskell