..her smile, which was her pretty feature, was never so pretty as when her sprightly phrase had a scratch lurking in it.

Things are always different than what they might be...If you wait for them to change, you will never do anything.

She had her own way of doing all that she did, and this is the simplest description of a character which, although by no means without liberal motions, rarely succeeded in giving an impression of suavity.

Sorrow comes in great waves...but rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us, it leaves us. And we know that if it is strong, we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain.

She is written in a foreign tongue.

Art is nothing more than the shadow of humanity.

To believe in a child is to believe in the future. Through their aspirations they will save the world. With their combined knowledge the turbulent seas of hate and injustice will be calmed.