The hardest of all is learning to be a well of affection, and not a fountain, to show them that we love them, not when we feel like it, but when they do.

We envy people we love for being always in their own loved company.

children once settled and confident can mostly be left, it seems, to manage their difficulties without us. Only what we must do, always and unalterably, is hold their hand firmly in general goodwill, then they themselves seem to deal with their own particular troubles far better than we can.

We love those we are happy with. We do. For how else can we know we love them, or how else define loving?

There is a stage with people we love when we are no longer separate from them, but so close in sympathy that we live through them as directly as through ourselves. ... we push back our hair because theirs is in their eyes.

If you would be happy all your life, plant a garden.

Every search has its own momentum. It is why a search makes such an excellent plot for a film or story.