... what a fatal thing in pictures, books, or human lives, is a lack of proportion.

But oh! the blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearlessly on any subject; with whom one's deepest as well as one's most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely. Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

Why cannot one always do, not only the right thing, but at the right time?

It is astonishing what a lot of odd minutes one can catch during the day, if one really sets about it.

the worst times come to an end if you can only wait long enough.

The wonder is not that some married people are less happy than they hoped to be, but that any married people, out of the honeymoon, or even in it, are ever happy at all.

We have not to construct human nature afresh, but to take it as we find it, and make the best of it.