Ignorance of the facts of life gave me my beloved son, Dickon, but at what cost to both him and me, I cannot hazard a guess.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
What family you were born into matters so much more than it did before in a perverse way.
It was my father who taught me to value myself. He told me that I was uncommonly beautiful and that I was the most precious thing in his life.
It's a complicated thing, knowing how much pain my father caused in my life and the lives of others whom I love, yet still holding love for him in my heart. No matter what he did, he was my father. He helped create the person I am.
The fact that I lost my son permeates my being.
In hindsight, I see the great value of family and how it moulded my life and kept me together. So now family means everything to me.
When my mother died, I fell apart. My father wanted to control me. As a consequence, I ran away to America.
I decided in my life that I would do nothing that did not reflect positively on my father's life.
My father superintended the English part of my education, and to his care I am indebted for anything valuable which I may have acquired in my youth. He was my only intelligent companion, and was both a watchful parent and an affectionate friend.
I sacrificed my anonymity for my father, whereas he sacrificed me for his fame.
Rude contact with facts chased my visions and dreams quickly away, and in their stead I beheld the horrors, the corruption, the evils and hypocrisy of society, and as I stood among them, a young wife, a great wail of agony went out from my soul.
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