“Life and love are very precious when both are in full bloom.”

I like to help women help themselves, as that is, in my opinion, the best way to settle the woman question. Whatever we can do and do well we have a right to, and I don’t think any one will deny us.

We can’t any of us do all we would like, but we can do our best for every case that comes to us, and that helps amazingly.

I want to do something splendid, Something heroic or wonderful that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead I think I shall write books.

Mothers can forgive anything! Tell me all, and be sure that I will never let you go, though the whole world should turn from you.

Simple, genuine goodness is the best capital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we can take out of this world with us.

One of the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us how well we are loved, how much kindness there is in the world, and how easily we can make others happy in the same way when they need help and sympathy.

She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain.

I don’t like favors; they oppress and make me fell like a slave. I’d rather do everything for myself, and be perfectly independent.

You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.

Good books, like good friends, are few and chosen; the more select, the more enjoyable.

He was the first, the only love her life, and in a nature like hers such passions take deep root and die-hard.

Some people seemed to get all sunshine, and some all shadow.

Where the heart is the mind works best.

In the books I read the sinners are always more interesting than the saints, and in real life good people are dismally dull. I’ve no desire to be wicked, but I do want to be happy. A short life and a gay one for me and I’m willing to pay for my pleasure if it is necessary.

I’d rather take coffee than compliments now.

Honesty is the best policy, in love as in law.

You, like nature again, will bloom again and change beautifully.

Bloom with your colors and fluttering wings of hope and smiles.

what is my poetry if not all of my sorrows blooming?

Your departure was like trusting the process of seasons. I never knew i’d bloom again after a terrible fall.

When we die plant us close so life grows from our love still. Even in death my chest will bloom for you.

Be proud of a body that bares the burden of being buried only to bloom.

Bloom for the bee, not for the hands that want to pluck you.

Today I am broken but tomorrow I will be gentle, I will be kind and i will bloom again.