I sing Connecticut, her charms / Of rivers, orchards, blossoming ridges. / I sing her gardens, fences, farms, / Spiders and midges.

There is satisfaction in seeing one's household prosper; in being both bountiful and provident.

Happiness puts on as many shapes as discontent, and there is nothing odder than the satisfaction of one's neighbor.

A lover would find life less broken apart after a misguided love affair if they could feel that they had been sinful rather than foolish.

It is the leisured, I have noticed, who rebel the most at an interruption of routine.

This is the gist of what I know: Give advice and buy a foe.

A mother's hardest to forgive. Life is the fruit she longs to hand you Ripe on a plate. And while you live, Relentlessly she understands you.