A Quote by Henry Ward Beecher

A woman's pity often opens the door to love. — © Henry Ward Beecher
A woman's pity often opens the door to love.
A woman was taking a shower. There is a knock on the door. Who is it? Blind man! The woman opens the door. Where do you want these blinds, lady?
I work very hard, but when God opens that door for you - when life opens that door for you, I should say - I think it's important to be giving, to return the love back.
When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.
Love opens the doors into everything, as far as I can see, including and perhaps most of all, the door into one's own secret, and often terrible and frightening, real self.
Don't let failure or disappointment cut you off from God or make you think that the future is hopeless. When God closes one door, He often opens another door - if we seek it.
When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long in disappointment and bitterness at the closed door that we do not expectantly look for and therefore see with pleasure and gratitude the one which has been opened for us.
What a pity when editors review a woman's book, that they so often fall into the error of reviewing the woman instead.
My next door neighbor just had a pacemaker installed. They're still working the bugs out, though. Every time he makes love, my garage door opens.
I often think of a poem as a door that opens into a room where I want to go.
Pity is for this life, pity is the worm inside the meat, pity is the meat, pity is the shaking pencil, pity is the shaking voice-- not enough money, not enough love--pity for all of us--it is our grace, walking down the ramp or on the moving sidewalk, sitting in a chair, reading the paper, pity, turning a leaf to the light, arranging a thorn.
When one door closes another opens but all too often there is a long hallway in between.
Love is contagious. When I share love, it comes back to me multiplied. Love opens every door.
London opens to you like a novel itself. [...] It is divided into chapters, the chapters into scenes, the scenes into sentences; it opens to you like a series of rooms, door, passsage, door. Mayfair to Piccadilly to Soho to the Strand.
When the door to love opens, The window to control closes.
Falling in love with someone is the surest highway to hurt that I know. When the door to love opens, the window to control closes.
When one door closes, another one opens, but sometimes we wait too long looking at the closed door, and never realize that another door has been opened.
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