[On the Netherlands:] There is not a richer or more carefully tilled garden spot in the whole world than this leaky, springy little country.
Luxuries unfit us for returning to hardships easily endured before.
Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be.
Grandma told me all about it, Told me so I couldn't doubt it, How she danced, my grandma danced; long ago.
[On The Netherlands:] ... the entire country is a kind of saturated sponge.
I'm as true a Protestant, in sooth, as any fine lady that walks into church, but it's not wrong to turn sometimes to the good St. Nicholas.