“ Your men friends frighten me; they have tidings of the latest discovery, the latest news at the edge of their lips, while I never glance at a newspaper without just missing the one thing you consider worth reading. But then I know that I have been so trained to keep to my own particular path in the world, that I should lose your love by making myself ridiculous and being unnatural if I tried to alter my whole life now. You see, dear, I appreciate what I cannot attain. Many women are the same — women born old-fashioned, who feel what they never speak about to any one. ”
Summary
"The Pacific Monthly" is a periodical centered on the cultural, historical, and social dynamics of the Pacific Coast, with a particular focus on Oregon and its surrounding areas. Though its authorship remains unattributed, the publication explores themes such as regional identity, education, industry (including timber and coal), and personal stories, often highlighting figures like Oregon’s poets, educators, and community leaders.
Through essays, biographies, and reflections on local life, it captures the interplay between tradition and advancement in the American West, emphasizing the enduring legacy of individuals who shaped the region’s intellectual and cultural landscape. Its strength lies in blending regional pride with critical analysis, offering a multifaceted portrait of the Pacific Northwest’s evolving identity.
Quotes from The Pacific Monthly ()
“ He was Oregon's sweetest singer, and leaves a place by his untimely death, which there is none to fill. That he was held in high esteem for his talents was evident by the array of prominent jurists, journalists and business men who followed him to the grave ; and it is a sad thought that one so fitted to challenge esteem could not have been lifted to a position which his genius deserved, while living. His name is not written high upon the scroll of fame, yet who shall say his life was not of value to the world? ”
“ I dare not be to blame for your loss of ambition. I dread the consequences for us both. O, I love you; don't be afraid. I worship yon quite foolishly, and you know I love you. But I also depend on your strength of character. I take pride in your genius, I admire your brain, just as I cling to the man who is everything in the world to me. I am not clever myself. I move in a small, narrow circle of people, well-bred, I admit, but neither very 'smart,' to use an odious word, nor very interesting, as Bohemians are interesting. I have norrow conventional notions for myself. ”
