They are the most painful tears in the world ... the tears of the aged ... for they come from dried beds where the emotions have long burned low.

There is no division nor subtraction in the heart-arithmetic of a good mother. There are only addition and multiplication.

It was true, she thought, that the big things awe us but the little things touch us.

Things last so much longer than people.

Junior was eleven. The statement is significant. There are a few peevish people in the world who believe that all eleven-year-old boys ought to be hung. Others, less irritable, think that gently chloroforming them would seem more humane. A great many good-natured folks contend that incarceration for a couple of years would prove the best way to dispose of them.

It is better to remember our love as it was in the springtime.

Love is the light that you see by.