It is an uneasy lot at best, to be what we call highly taught and yet not to enjoy: to be present at this great spectacle of life and never to be liberated from a small hungry shivering self.

... when one's outward lot is perfect, the sense of inward imperfection is the more pressing.

How lovely the little river is, with its dark changing wavelets! It seems to me like a living companion while I wander along the bank, and listen to its low, placid voice.

People who live at a distance are naturally less faulty than those immediately under our own eyes.

Miserliness is a capital quality to run in families; it's the safe side for madness to dip on.

In poor Rosamond's mind there was not room enough for luxuries to look small in.

Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.