So they all went away from the little log house. The shutters were over the windows, so the little house could not see them go. It stayed there inside the log fence, behind the two big oak trees that in the summertime had made green roofs for Mary and Laura to play under.

All I have told is true, but it is not the whole truth.

In these days when we feed those who are not hungry, we are stealing from those who are starving, even though the food is our own.

We'd never get anything fixed to suit us if we waited for things to suit us before we started.

The life of the earth comes up with a rush in the springtime. All the wild seeds of weed and thistle, the sprouts of vine and bush and tree, are trying to take the fields. Farmers must fight them with harrow and plow and hoe; they must plant the good seeds quickly.

We go lightheartedly on our way, never thinking that by a careless word or two we may have altered the whole course of human lives, for some person will take our advice and use it.

People used to have time to live and enjoy themselves, but there is no time anymore for anything but work, work, work.