Eighty Years and More (1815-1897): Reminiscences of Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Front Cover
European Publishing Company, 1897 - Suffragists - 474 pages
 

Contents

I
1
II
19
III
35
IV
51
V
71
VI
92
VII
107
VIII
127
XVI
245
XVII
259
XVIII
283
XIX
307
XX
322
XXI
337
XXII
351
XXIII
377

IX
143
X
155
XI
169
XII
186
XIII
199
XIV
215
XV
234
XXIV
393
XXV
412
XXVI
422
XXVII
439
XXVIII
457
Copyright

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Popular passages

Page 418 - The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.
Page 447 - It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate. Cato learned Greek at eighty; Sophocles Wrote his grand CEdipus, and Simonides Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers, When each had numbered more than fourscore years, And Theophrastus, at fourscore and ten, Had but begun his Characters of Men.
Page 334 - New occasions teach new duties : Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea. Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
Page 277 - I hear the tread of pioneers Of nations yet to be ; The first low wash of waves, where soon Shall roll a human sea.
Page 447 - For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Page 156 - HE that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief.
Page 106 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou; Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Page 428 - THE harp at Nature's advent strung Has never ceased to play ; The song the stars of morning sung Has never died away. And prayer is made, and praise is given, By all things near and far ; The ocean looketh up to heaven, And mirrors every star. Its waves are kneeling on the strand, As kneels the human knee, Their white locks bowing to the sand, The priesthood of the sea...
Page 333 - States have been remodeled, and woman stands to-day almost face to face with her last claim — the ballot. It has been a weary and thankless, though successful, struggle. But if there be any refuge from that ghastly curse, the vice of great cities — before which social science stands palsied and dumb — it is in this more equal recognition of woman. If, in this critical battle for universal suffrage — our fathers...
Page 407 - The whole world was made for man, but the twelfth part of man for woman: man is the whole world, and the breath of God; woman the rib, and crooked piece of man.

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