From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds. — John Greenleaf Whittier
But, by all thy nature’s weakness, hidden faults and follies known, be thou, in rebuking evil, conscious of thine own. — John Greenleaf Whittier
The dreariest spot in all the land to death they set apart; with scanty grace from nature’s hand — John Greenleaf Whittier
They tell me, lucy, thou art dead, that all of thee we loved and cherished has with thy summer roses perished; — John Greenleaf Whittier
We meet today to thank thee for the era done, and thee for the opening one. — John Greenleaf Whittier
It is no use trying to sum people up. One must follow hints, not exactly what is said, nor yet entirely what is done. — John Greenleaf Whittier
Nothing before, nothing behind; the steps of faith fall on the seeming void and find the rock beneath. — John Greenleaf Whittier
H, that I were free again! free as when I rode that day, where the barefoot maiden raked the hay. — John Greenleaf Whittier
The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; — John Greenleaf Whittier
Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, but spare your country’s flag, she said. — John Greenleaf Whittier
Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: it might have been. — John Greenleaf Whittier