'You will make me hate you next.

I am not a pleasant-tempered woman.' 'If you do, I will promise you forgiveness beforehand.

Why, you poor creature, do you think I could ever be hard on you ?' The fierce light in her eyes softened.

'Nay, I did not mean what I said; but you excite me with your talk.

How can you know what I feel about these things?
You cannot put yourself in my place.' 'The heart knoweth its own bitterness, Phoebe; and it may be that in your place I should fail utterly in patience; but if we will not lie still under His hand, and learn the lesson He would fain teach us, it may be that fresh trials may be sent to humble us.' 'Do you think things could be much worse with me ?' becoming excited again; but I stroked her hand, and begged her gently to let me finish my speech.
'Phoebe, as you lie there on your cross, the whole Church throughout the world is praying for you Sunday after Sunday when the prayer goes up for those who are desolate and oppressed.