Now and then genius carries all before it, but not often. We have to climb slowly, with many slips and falls.

All is fish that comes to the literary net. Goethe puts his joys and sorrows into poems, I turn my adventures into bread and butter.

The violin - that most human of all instruments.

...and best of all, the wilderness of books, in which she could wander, where she liked, made the library a region of bliss to her.

Jo's breath gave out here, and wrapping her head in the paper, she bedewed her little story with a few natural tears, for to be independent and earn the praise of those she loved were the dearest wishes of her heart, and this seemed to be the first step toward that happy end.

Marmee: Oh, Jo. Jo, you have so many extraordinary gifts; how can you expect to lead an ordinary life? You’re ready to go out and – and find a good use for your talent. Tho’ I don’t know what I shall do without my Jo. Go, and embrace your liberty. And see what wonderful things come of it.

Oh dear, life is pretty tough sometimes, isn't it?