…she rejoiced as only mothers can in the good fortunes of their children.

I often think flowers are the angels' alphabet whereby they write on hills and fields mysterious and beautiful lessons for us to feel and learn.

…what splendid dreams young people build upon a word, and how bitter is the pain when the bright bubbles burst.

The fear of being an old maid made young girls rush into matrimony with a recklessness that astonishes.

We don't choose our talents; but we needn't hide them in a napkin because they are not just what we want.

I for one don't want to be ranked among idiots, felons, and minors any longer, for I am none of them.

My only answer is, if my grave stood open on one side and you upon the other I'd go into my grave before I would take one step to meet you.