I’m tired of praise; and love is very sweet, when it is simple and sincere like this.
Love is apt to make lunatics of even men and saints.
The moment Aunt March took her nap, or was busy with company, Jo hurried to this quiet place, and curling herself up in the easy chair, devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures like a regular bookworm.
I am angry nearly every day of my life, but I have learned not to show it; and I still try to hope not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do it.
I think we are all hopelessly flawed.
I do like men who come out frankly and own that they are not gods.
We don’t choose our talents; but we needn’t hide them in a napkin because they are not just what we want.
It’s lovely to see people so happy.
Dan clung to her in speechless gratitude, feeling the blessedness of mother love, – that divine gift which comforts, purifies, and strengthens all who seek it.
A quick temper, sharp tongue, and restless spirit were always getting her into scrapes, and her life was a series of ups and downs, which were both comic and pathetic.
Oh dear, life is pretty tough sometimes, isn’t it?
Life is my university, and I hope to graduate from it with some distinction.
Young people think they never can change, but they do in the most wonderful manner, and very few die of broken hearts.
Men are always ready to die for us, but not to make our lives worth having. Cheap sentiment and bad logic.
The fear of being an old maid made young girls rush into matrimony with a recklessness that astonishes.
Girls could do most things as well as boys, and some things better.
Remember that frost comes latest to those that bloom the highest.
I’ve learned to check the hasty words that rise to my lips, and when I feel that they mean to break out against my will, I just go away for a minute, and give myself a little shake for being so weak and wicked.
People cannot be molded like clay.
Liberty is a better husband than love to many of us.