Agnes sligh turnbull

You must learn to drink the cup of life as it comes ... without stirring it up from the bottom. That's where the bitter dregs are!

Defeat in itself was part and parcel of the great gambling game of politics. A man who could not accept it and try again was not of the stuff of which leaders are made.

Burning logs can carry on quite a conversation! ... Have you ever heard apple wood talking? It's the most loquacious of all. You really can't get a word in edgeways.

There is only one thing about which I shall have no regrets when my life ends. I have savored to the full all the small, daily joys. The bright sunshine on the breakfast table; the smell of the air at dusk; the sound of the clock ticking; the light rains that start gently after midnight; the hour when the family come home; Sunday-evening tea before the fire! I have never missed one moment of beauty, not even taken it for granted. Spring, summer, autumn, or winter. I wish I had failed as little in other ways.

[On religion:] Wasn't it invented by man for a kind of solace? It's as though he had said, 'I'll make me a nice comfortable garment to shut out the heat and the cold,' and then it ends by becoming a strait-jacket.

When the desire ain't on me I don't need help. When it is on me I don't want any. See? Like the old fellah that never mended his roof. Said on a wet day he couldn't do it and on a dry day it was as good as anybody's.

I think we foreshorten our own viewpoint if we consider any state of mind, or society, or government as final. Growth and change! We can't get away from them.

Learn to drink the cup of life as it comes.

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.

The idea of perfection always gives one a chance to talk without knowing facts.

There is still vitality under the winter snow, even though to the casual eye it seems to be dead.

Do you know that the tendrils of graft and corruption have become mighty interlacing roots so that even men who would like to be honest are tripped and trapped by them?

If a diplomat says yes, he means perhaps. If he says perhaps he means no. And if he says no, he's the hell of a diplomat.

A country-bred man can always learn to get on with city people, but a town-bred fellah never gets the real hang of the country. You can put city polish on a man, but by golly, it seems you can't ever rub it off him.

the human soul, by once suffering as much as it is capable of, purchases a strange and terrible immunity to all the rest of life's sorrows.

Author details

Agnes Sligh Turnbull: Biography and Life Work

Agnes Sligh Turnbull was a notable Author. The story of Agnes Sligh Turnbull began on October 14, 1888 in New Alexandria, Pennsylvania, United States. The legacy of Agnes Sligh Turnbull continues today, following their passing on January 31, 1982 in Livingston, New Jersey, United States.

Agnes Sligh Turnbull (October 14, 1888, New Alexandria, Pennsylvania – January 31, 1982, Livingston, New Jersey ) was a bestselling American writer, most noted for her works of historical fiction based in her native Western Pennsylvania .

Philosophical Views and Reflections

In 1918, she married James Lyall Turnbull, just before his departure for Europe during World War I . He returned, and they were married for 40 years and had one child, a daughter named Martha. The family moved to Maplewood, New Jersey in 1922, where she lived for the rest of her life.

Turnbull's earliest novels, sometimes called her "Westmoreland Novels", are heavily influenced by Scotch-Irish ethno-religious culture that dominated her upbringing in rural Western Pennsylvania. These early novels have been identifies as offering subtle critiques of religious legalism, patriarchy, and industrial excesses. Over the span of her six-decade writing career, Turnbull's later works were increasingly regarded as having old-fashioned morality, which she and others attributed it to a hopeful outlook on life.

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