Love she had found, had a strange way of multiplying. Doubling, trebling itself, so that, as each child arrived, there was always more than enough to go around.
She had loved them all, her children. Loved each one the best, but for different reasons.
It was good, and nothing good is truly lost. It stays part of a person, becomes part of their character. So part of you goes everywhere with me. And part of me is yours, forever
There’s a war on. We don’t know how anything’s going to end. We just have to grasp each fleeting moment of joy as it whizzes by.
I wasn’t good enough. I had a little talent but not enough. There is nothing more discouraging than having just a little talent.
The greatest gift a parent can leave a child is that parent’s own independence.
For he was drinking too much. Not uncontrollably nor offensively, but still he seldom seemed to have a glass out of his hand.
He’s threatening to breed polo ponies, but he’s always been a man of great ideas, but little action, so I don’t suppose he will.
What a happy woman I am, living in a garden, with books, babies, birds and flowers, and plenty of leisure to enjoy them. Sometimes I feel as if I were blest above all my fellows in being able to find happiness so ea
People today expect too much from marriage. Getting married is really like taking on a big new job.