Louisa May Alcott

Six weeks is a long time to wait, and a still longer time for a girl to keep a secret_

I don't think secrets agree with me, I feel rumpled up in mind since you told me that_

Yet that is considered an excellent school, and I dare say it would be if the benighted lady did not think it necessary to cram her pupils like Thanksgiving turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural and wholesome way. It is the fault with most American schools, and the poor little heads will go on aching till we learn better.

_in silence learned the sweet solace which affection administers to sorrow.

...the uncomfortable appearance of a girl who was rapidly shooting up into a woman and didn't like it.

Don't try to make me grow up before my time_

I wish wearing flat-irons on our heads would keep us from growing up. But buds will be roses, and kittens, cats, - more's the pity!

Many of the bravest never are known, and get no praise. [But]that does not lessen their beauty...

Color makes no difference; the peeps are gray, the seals are black, and the crabs yellow; but we don't care, and are all friends. It is very unkind to treat you so.

What shall you do all your vacation?_, asked Amy. "I shall lie abed and do nothing", replied Meg.

Rose: A real sacrifice is giving up something you want or enjoy very much, isn't it?Alec: Yes.Rose: Doing it one's own self because one loves another person very much and wants her to be happy?Alec: Yes.Rose: And doing it pleasantly, and being glad about it, and not minding the praise if it doesn't come?Alec: Yes dear, that is the true spirit of self-sacrifice...

It is so beautiful to be loved as Laurie loves me; he isn__ sentimental, doesn__ say much about it, but I see and feel it in all he says and does, and it makes me so happy and so humble that I don__ seem to be the same girl I was. I never knew how good and generous and tender he was till now, for he lets me read his heart, and I find it full of noble hopes and impulses and purposes, and am so proud to know it__ mine. He says he feels as if he __ould make a prosperous voyage now with me aboard as mate, and lots of love for ballast._ I pray he may, and try to be all he believes me, for I love my gallant captain with all my heart and soul and might, and never will desert him while God lets us be together. Oh, Mother, I never knew how much like heaven this world could be when two people love and live for one another!

Be worthy love, and love will come.

ridicule is often harder to bear than self-denial.

Yes, Phebe was herself now, and it showed in the change that came over her at the first note of music. No longer shy and silent, no longer the image of a handsome girl, but a blooming woman, alive and full of the eloquence her art gave her, as she laid her hands softly together, fixed her eye on the light, and just poured out her song as simply and joyfully as the lark does soaring toward the sun. "My faith, Alec! that's the sort of voice that wins a man's heart out of his breast!" exclaimed Uncle Mac, wiping his eyes after one of the plaintive ballads that never grow old. "So it would!" answered Dr. Alec, delightedly. "So it has," added Archie to himself; and he was right: for just at that moment he fell in love with Phebe. He actually did, and could fix the time almost to a second: for at a quarter past nine, he thought merely thought her a very charming young person; at twenty minutes past, he considered her the loveliest woman he ever beheld; at five and twenty minutes past, she was an angel singing his soul away; and at half after nine he was a lost man, floating over a delicious sea to that temporary heaven on earth where lovers usually land after the first rapturous plunge. If anyone had mentioned this astonishing fact, nobody would have believed it; nevertheless, it was quite true: and sober, business-like Archie suddenly discovered a fund of romance at the bottom of his hitherto well-conducted heart that amazed him. He was not quite clear what had happened to him at first, and sat about in a dazed sort of way; seeing, hearing, knowing nothing but Phebe: while the unconscious idol found something wanting in the cordial praise so modestly received, because Mr. Archie never said a word.

leave him free, and the mere sense of liberty would content him, joined to the knowledge that his presence was dear to those whom he loved best.

Jo carried her love of liberty and hate of conventionalities to such and unlimited extent that she naturally found herself worsted in an argument.

Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put on her scribbling suit, and "fall into a vortex" as she expressed it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till that was finished she could find no peace. Her "scribbling suit" consisted of a black woollen pinafore on which she could wipe her pen at will, and a cap of the same material, adorned with a cheerful red bow, into which she bundled her hair when the decks were cleared for action. This cap was a beacon to the inquiring eyes of her family, who during these periods kept their distance, merely popping in their heads semi-occasionally, to ask, with interest, "Does genius burn, Jo?" They did not always venture even to ask this question, but took an observation of the cap, and judged accordingly. If this expressive article of dress was drawn low upon the forehead, it was a sign that hard work was going on; in exciting moments it was pushed rakishly askew; and when despair seized the author it was plucked wholly off, and cast upon the floor. At such times the intruder silently withdrew; and not until the red bow was seen gayly erect upon the gifted brow, did any one dare address Jo.