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“But do you imagine there’s a certain type of person in the world who conforms to the idea of a ‘bad person'? You’ll never find someone who fits that mold neatly, you know. On the whole, all people are good, or at least they’re normal. The frightening thing is that they can suddenly turn bad when it comes to the crunch. That’s why you have to be careful.”
― Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro

“You must remember also that He would never make any mistake in creating you. No matter what harsh and hateful words have been said to you, no matter the wrong actions against you, those opinions are not valid. The only valid opinion in which we can place true merit is that of God, and ultimately, your own.--Olivia Worthington of River Oaks Plantation”
― Lisa M. Prysock, Protecting Miss Jenna

“The ever-present war in the background lent a pleasant informality to social relations, an informality which older people viewed with alarm. Mothers found strange men calling on their daughters, men who came without letters of introduction and whose antecedents were unknown. To their horror, mothers found their daughters holding hands with these men. Mrs. Merriwether, who had never kissed her husband until after the wedding ceremony, could scarcely believe her eyes when she caught Maybelle kissing the little Zouave, Rene Picard, and her consternation was even greater when Maybelle refused to be ashamed. Even the fact that Rene immediately asked for her hand did not improve matters. Mrs. Merriwether felt that the South was heading for a complete moral collapse and frequently said so. Other mothers concurred heartily with her and blamed it on the war.

But men who expected to die within a week or a month could not wait a year before they begged to call a girl by her first name, with "Miss," of course, preceding it. Nor would they go through the formal and protracted courtships which good manners had prescribed before the war. They were likely to propose in three or four months. And girls who knew very well that a lady always refused a gentlemen the first three times he proposed rushed headlong to accept the first time.”
― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

“I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of the land... I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels. Never was there a clearer case of 'stealing the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in.' I am filled with unutterable loathing when I contemplate the religious pomp and show, together with the horrible inconsistencies, which every where surround me. We have men-stealers for ministers, women-whippers for missionaries, and cradle-plunderers for church members. The man who wields the blood-clotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit on Sunday, and claims to be a minister of the meek and lowly Jesus. . . . The slave auctioneer’s bell and the church-going bell chime in with each other, and the bitter cries of the heart-broken slave are drowned in the religious shouts of his pious master. Revivals of religion and revivals in the slave-trade go hand in hand together. The slave prison and the church stand near each other. The clanking of fetters and the rattling of chains in the prison, and the pious psalm and solemn prayer in the church, may be heard at the same time. The dealers in the bodies of men erect their stand in the presence of the pulpit, and they mutually help each other. The dealer gives his blood-stained gold to support the pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his infernal business with the garb of Christianity. Here we have religion and robbery the allies of each other—devils dressed in angels�� robes, and hell presenting the semblance of paradise.��
�� Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass”
― Frederick Douglass, Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass

“Much Madness is Divinest Sense
Much Sense the Starkest Madness”
― Emily Dickinson, much madness is diviniest sense

“It sat proudly basking in the warm glow of the street lights; it wasn't a menacing 'enter at your own risk' sight at all. More of a 'come in if you'd like, if not then have a lovely evening' picturesque artifact of the Old South.”
― Mandy Ashcraft, Small Orange Fruit

“She could not hear the reply of the Lord in the soft moonlight beams He had hung in the heavens...beams that filtered through the creamy lace curtain panels and caressed her cheek. Nor did she hear the Lord's encouragement in the stars that lit up the night sky. She could hear no reply at all that night.”
― Lisa M. Prysock, Protecting Miss Jenna

“They both knew the stakes were high and they were trapped in the inevitable, but there were far greater questions racing through their minds that night.”
― Lisa M. Prysock, Protecting Miss Jenna

“Meanwhile, I learned my future depended not on the plans of another, but on fate and myself.”
― Harriette Simpson Arnow, Old Burnside