Never does one feel oneself so utterly helpless as in trying to speak comfort for great bereavement. I will not try it. Time is the only comforter for the loss of a mother.
Blessed be the inventor of photography! It has given more positive pleasure to poor suffering humanity than anything else that has cast up in my time -- this art by which even the poor can possess themselves of tolerable of their absent dear ones.
It is sad and wrong to be so dependent for the life of my life on any human being as I am on you; but I cannot by any force of logic cure myself at this date, when it has become second nature.
Books by and about Jane Welsh Carlyle
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