Be Worthy Love, And Love Will Come.

Every House Needs A Grandmother In It.

I Love My Liberty Too Well To Be In A Hurry To Give It Up For Any Mortal Man.

Mrs. Jo Did Not Mean The Measles, But That More Serious Malady Called Love, Which Is Apt To Ravage Communities, Spring And Autumn, When Winter Gayety And Summer Idleness Produce Whole Bouquets Of Engagements, And Set Young People To Pairing Off Like The Birds.

I'm Tired Of Praise; And Love Is Very Sweet, When It Is Simple And Sincere Like This.

Self-pity In Its Early Stages Is As Snug As A Feather Mattress. Only When It Hardens Does It Become Uncomfortable.