This is reality, whether you like it or not--all those frivolities of summer, the light and shadow, the living mask of green that trembled over everything, they were lies, and this is what was underneath. This is the truth.

"More than him has done that," said Antonia sadly, and the girls murmured assent.

What if - what if Life itself were the sweetheart?

Success is less interesting than struggle. There is great pleasure in the effort.

All Southern women wished of their menfolk was simply to be 'like Paris handsome and like Hector brave'.

One may have staunch friends in one's own family, but one seldom has admirers.

Old men are like that, you know. It makes them feel important to think they are in love with somebody.