On July 20, 1896, she wrote to a candidate for a professorship:
The university still is restricted and limited in its ambitions and its aims, because of my inability to increase the number of students or the number of professors. The gift of $2,500,000 in bonds which I have by the grace of God been enabled to give to the trustees for the present and future maintenance of the university brings in a monthly income of $10,000, while the actual expenses for the faculty and the president and the necessary matters bring the sum total of expenses per month to $19,000; This $9,000 1 am obliged to furnish myself, through the strictest economy and the husbanding of resources; consequently I am not increasing expenses but on the contrary shall retrench in the future.
On December 28, 1895, she said:
I must confess to a feeling of great pride in our entire body of students, both male and female, and I think we are all in a way under obligations to them for their uniformly good conduct, and a desire, as my dear husband once expressed it, to be ladies and gentlemen.
On July 29, 1895, she wrote:
I send a precious letter from Mr. Andrew White for you to read. I read it with a heart running over with various emotions. Mr. Stanford esteemed him so highly I could not but feel like asking God to let my loved ones in heaven know the contents of this letter. I prize this letter beyond my ability to express. It lifted my soul from its heaviness. My heart is one unceasing prayer to the Allwise, All Merciful one, that all will be well for the future of the good work under your care. When the end of our troubles is over, all (these letters) will be placed in your hands for future reading by our students, a story for them when I have passed into peace.
Soon after, she wrote:
I return herewith Mr. Choate's kind letter. God bless him, for he was a friend indeed.
After the decision of Judge Ross (July 6, 1895), she wrote:
I dare not let my soul rejoice over the future. It must be more sure than it is now. I hope and pray that the final decision will be as sure as the first. It means more to me than you or the world have dreamed. It means an unsullied, untarnished name as a blessed heritage to the university. My husband often used to say: "A good name is better than riches." God can not but be touched by my constant pleading, and this first decision by Judge Ross makes me humble that I so unworthy should have received the smallest attention.
From Paris, August 30, 1897, she wrote:
I wish the rest of my responsibilities caused me as little care as does the internal working of the good work. I am only anxious to furnish you the funds to pay the needs required. I could live on bread and water to do this, my part, and would feel that God and my loved ones in the life beyond this smiled on the efforts to ensure the future of my dear husband's work to better humanity.
Again, in 1897, she writes to her trusted solicitor, Russell Wilson:
