But I always felt that I'd rather be provincial hot-tamale than soup without seasoning.

Daisy began to sing with the music in a husky, rhythmic whisper, bringing out a meaning in each word that it had never had before and would never have again. When the melody rose, her voice broke up sweetly, following it, in a way contralto voices have, and each change tipped out a little of her warm human magic upon the air.

unloved women have no biographies-- they have histories

I want to tell you about your heart— you've probably been neglecting your heart—and you don’t know.

Human sympathy has its limits.

Dishonesty in a woman is a thing you never blame deeply.

All that kept her from breaking was that it was not an image of strength that was leaving her; she would be just as strong without him.