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There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but... Options
Daemon
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 12:00:00 AM
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There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.

Washington Irving (1783-1859)
KSPavan
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 2:01:33 AM

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Quotation of the Day
There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.
Washington Irving (1783-1859)
Bully_rus
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 4:42:05 AM
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Daemon wrote:
There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.

Washington Irving (1783-1859)


Yeah. Though personally I believe it’s true; I don’t wanna try it out right now. No, not today, guys.
Adyl Mouhei
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 5:26:36 AM

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Daemon wrote:
There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.

Washington Irving (1783-1859)
Adyl Mouhei
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 5:28:20 AM

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Picturesque Speech!
monamagda
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 9:58:06 AM

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Context from: The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent.

The Wife

The treasures of the deep are not so precious
As are the concealed comforts of a man
Lock’d up in woman’s love. I scent the air
Of blessings, when I came but near the house,
What a delicious breath marriage sends forth—
The violet bed’s no sweeter!
MIDDLETON.


“Oh, but my friend! to think what a blow I am to give to all her future prospects,—how I am to strike her very soul to the earth, by telling her that her husband is a beggar! that she is to forego all the elegancies of life—all the pleasures of society—to shrink with me into indigence and obscurity! To tell her that I have dragged her down from the sphere in which she might have continued to move in constant brightness—the light of every eye—the admiration of every heart!—How can she bear poverty? She has been brought up in all the refinements of opulence. How can she bear neglect? She has been the idol of society. Oh, it will break her heart—it will break her heart!”

I saw his grief was eloquent, and I let it have its flow; for sorrow relieves itself by words. When his paroxysm had subsided, and he had relapsed into moody silence, I resumed the subject gently, and urged him to break his situation at once to his wife. He shook his head mournfully, but positively.

“But how are you to keep it from her? It is necessary she should know it, that you may take the steps proper to the alteration of your circumstances. You must change your style of living—nay,” observing a pang to pass across his countenance, “don’t let that afflict you. I am sure you have never placed your happiness in outward show—you have yet friends, warm friends, who will not think the worse of you for being less splendidly lodged: and surely it does not require a palace to be happy with Mary—”

“I could be happy with her,” cried he, convulsively, “in a hovel!—I could go down with her into poverty and the dust!—I could—I could—God bless her!—God bless her!” cried he, bursting into a transport of grief and tenderness.
“And believe me, my friend,” said I, stepping up, and grasping him warmly by the hand, “believe me, she can be the same with you. Ay, more; it will be a source of pride and triumph to her—it will call forth all the latent energies and fervent sympathies of her nature; for she will rejoice to prove that she loves you for yourself. There is in every true woman’s heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams, and blazes in the dark hour of adversity. No man knows what the wife of his bosom is—no man knows what a ministering angel she is—until he has gone with her through the fiery trials of this world.”

Read more: http://www.telelib.com/authors/I/IrvingWashington/prose/geoffreycrayon/wife.html
Wilmar (USA)
Posted: Saturday, April 13, 2019 4:55:58 PM

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There is in every true woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity; but which kindles up, and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.
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