โฆtomorrow was her birthday, and she was thinking how fast the years went by, how old she was getting, and how little she seemed to have accomplished. Almost twenty-five and nothing to show for it.
Louisa May Alcott...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.
Louisa May AlcottMrs. Jo did not mean the measles, but that more serious malady called love, which is apt to ravage communities, spring and autumn, when winter gayety and summer idleness produce whole bouquets of engagements, and set young people to pairing off like the birds.
Louisa May Alcott