“The power of finding beauty in the humblest things makes home happy and life lovely.”

There is very little real liberty in the world; even those who seem freest are often the most tightly bound. Law, custom, public opinion, fear or shame make slaves of us all, as you will find when you try your experiment.

Some books are so familiar that reading them is like being home again.

Marriage, they say, halves one’s rights and doubles one’s duties.

My book came out; and people began to think that topsy-turvy Louisa would amount to something after all.

Nothing is impossible to a determined woman.

It takes so little to make a child happy, that it is a pity in a world full of sunshine and pleasant things, that there should be any wistful faces, empty hands, or lonely little hearts.

Be comforted, dear soul! There is always light behind the clouds.

It takes very little fire to make a great deal of smoke nowadays, and notoriety is not real glory.

Don’t try to make me grow up before my time.

Father asked us what was God’s noblest work. Anna said men, but I said babies. Men are often bad, but babies never are.

Happy is the son whose faith in his mother remains unchallenged.

I’ve got the key to my castle in the air, but whether I can unlock the door remains to be seen.

Every house needs a grandmother in it.

Women have been called queens for a long time, but the kingdom given them isn’t worth ruling.

The scar will remain, but it is better for a man to lose both arms than his soul; and these hard years, instead of being lost, may be made the most precious of your lives, if they teach you to rule yourselves.

The emerging woman will be strong-minded, strong-hearted, strong-souled, and strong-bodied strength and beauty must go together.

Listen to the beat of beauty with your heart.

And she started flying, just like the beautiful butterfly she is.

True beauty is reflected from within.

She is like a beautiful night. Full of stars and darkness.

Darling, Crying over beauty sometimes is fine; You are only human after all.

And through all your phases you are still beautiful.

The beauty in the suffering is not the lack of love they have, it’s the depth of love they swam into that drowned them among their highest waters.

Your poems are so beautiful I almost forgot the pain you lived to pen them-from pain comes with beautiful things.