#margaret

I met my wife, Margaret L. Mack, at the University of Chicago. We were married in 1936. She died in 1970. ↗

— George Stigler

#died #i #mack #margaret #married

L'éducation est un processus culturel (...) par lequel chaque nouvel individu est transformé en membre à part entière d'une société humaine particulière, partageant avec les autres membres une culture particulière. ↗

— Margaret Mead

#education #margaret-meade-featherstonhaugh #society #education

She would fain have caught at the skirts of that departing time, and prayed it to return, and give her back what she had too little valued while it was yet in her possession. What a vain show Life seemed! How unsubstantial, and flickering, and flitting! It was as if from some aerial belfry, high up above the stir and jar of the earth, there was a bell continually tolling, ‘All are shadows!—all are passing!—all is past! ↗

— Elizabeth Gaskell

#margaret-hale #north-and-south #quotes #life

You don’t love me,” she said slowly. “You’ve looked at me the same way from the instant we met.” His grip tightened on her waist. He leaned into her on a hiss. “Don’t tell me I don’t love you. Don’t you dare tell me that, Margaret. I have loved you since the moment you read my brother’s book to me. I love that you are the one woman I can trust with my weakness, that you know all the dark parts of me and do not turn away. I love the fierceness with which you protect the ones you love, even when they don’t deserve it. I love every last inch of you, and I want you for my own.” His words were hot, fiercely possessive, and yet he leaned his forehead against hers gently. “Although God knows, I don’t deserve you. ↗

— Courtney Milan

#love