I believe that the matter is automatically self-regulating; that those women who prefer the home and have an ability for it will eventually return to it; that others, like myself, will compromise; and that still others, temperamentally unfitted for it, will remain in the world to add to its productivity.

Of one thing the reader can be certain: the more easily anything reads, the harder it has been to write.

Love sees clearly, and seeing, loves on. But infatuation is blind; when it gains sight, it dies.

When a great burden is lifted, the relief is not always felt at once. The galled places still ache.

the calm of a place like Bellwood is the peace of death without the hope of resurrection.

I suppose that we are only young, Chris, so long as we can forget. After that we merely remember!

Well, that was life. It was an old tree, and the old passed on. Probably they did not mind. There came a time when all sap ran slowly, and the peace of age with all things behind it merged easily into the peace of death. The difficult thing was to be young.