Sympathy is a sweet thing.

I'm perfectly miserable; but if you consider me presentable, I die happy.

Jo had learned that hearts, like flowers, cannot be rudely handled, but must open naturally.

…on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries.

I've neither beauty, money, nor rank, yet every foolish boy mistakes my frank interest for something warmer, and makes me miserable. It is my misfortune. Think of me what you will, but beware of me in time, for against my will I may do you harm.

No woman should give her happiness into the keeping of a man without fixed principles.

Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. "It's so dreadful to be poor!" sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. "I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all," added little Amy, with an injured sniff. "We've got Father and Mother, and each other," said Beth contentedly from her corner.