To be really great in little things, to be truly noble and heroic in the insipid details of everyday life, is a virtue so rare as to be worthy of canonization.
Harriet Beecher StoweRead
Once, in an age, God sends to some of us a friend who loves in us, not a false imagining, an unreal character, but, looking through all the rubbish of our imperfections, loves in us the divine ideal of our nature, — loves, not the man that we are, but the angel that we may be.
Interpretation
True friendship sees beyond imperfections and recognizes our potential and ideal self.
This quote by Harriet Beecher Stowe emphasizes the idea that a genuine friend appreciates us for who we truly are at our core, rather than focusing on our flaws. A true friend acknowledges our struggles and imperfections, yet believes in the best version of ourselves, encouraging us to strive towards our higher ideals and potentials.
In practice
During a toast at a wedding, one might say this quote to highlight the importance of unconditional love in a relationship.
To be really great in little things, to be truly noble and heroic in the insipid details of everyday life, is a virtue so rare as to be worthy of canonization.
What's your hurry?" Because now is the only time there ever is to do a thing in," said Miss Ophelia.
So much has been said and sung of beautiful young girls, why doesn't somebody wake up to the beauty of old women.
It is generally understood that men don't aspire after the absolute right, but only to do about as well as the rest of the world.
Death! Strange that there should be such a word, and such a thing, and we ever forget it; that one should be living, warm and beautiful, full of hopes, desires and wants, one day, and the next be gone, utterly gone, and forever!
What is it that sometimes speaks in the soul so calmly, so clearly, that its earthly time is short? Is it the secret instinct of decaying nature, or the soul's impulsive throb, as immortality draws on? Be what it may, it rested in the heart of Eva, a calm, sweet, prophetic certainty that Heaven was near; calm as the light of sunset, sweet as the bright stillness of autumn, there her little heart reposed, only troubled by sorrow for those who loved her so dearly.
One of the most mawkish of human delusions is the notion that friendship should be eternal, or, at all events, life-long, and that any act which puts a term to it is somehow discreditable.
We cannot always assure the future of our friends; we have a better chance of assuring our future if we remember who our friends are.
The best thing you can possibly do for a friend is to be his friend.
Sharing our depressions felt like having survived a war. The experience bonds you to the other person for life.
The friend within the man is that part of him which belongs to you and opens to you a door which never, perhaps, is opened to another. Such a friend is true, and all he says is true; and he loves you even if he hates you in other mansions of his heart.
Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.
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