“The world seems a lonesome place when mother has passed away and only memories of her are left.”

These happy golden years are passing by, these happy golden years.

Every job is good if you do your best and work hard. A man who works hard stinks only to the ones that have nothing to do but smell.

Her blue eyes were still beautiful, but they did not know what was before them, and Mary herself could never look through them again to tell Laura what she was thinking without saying a word.

Many a good beginning makes a bad ending.

The wilderness needs your whole attention.

Wild animals would not stay in a country where there were so many people. Pa did not like to stay, either. He liked a country where the wild animals lived without being afraid.

It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.

Courage and kindness, loyalty, truth, and helpfulness are always the same and always needed.

We go lightheartedly on our way, never thinking that by a careless word or two we may have altered the whole course of human lives, for some person will take our advice and use it.

There is nothing wrong with God’s plan that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.

There the wild animals wandered and fed as though they were in a pasture that stretched much farther than a man could see, and there were no settlers. Only Indians lived there.

If enough people think of a thing and work hard enough at it, I guess it’s pretty nearly bound to happen, wind and weather permitting.

The uplift of a fearless heart will help us over barriers. No one ever overcomes difficulties by going at them in a hesitant, doubtful way.

Some old-fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.

The trouble with organizing a thing is that pretty soon folks get to paying more attention to the organization than to what they’re organized for.

We must get rid of the habit of classing all women together politically and thinking of the ‘woman’s vote’ as one and indivisible.

Loneliness is a sign you are in desperate need of yourself.

Being Prime Minister is a lonely job. In a sense, it ought to be: you cannot lead from the crowd.

Do we really love each other or are we trying to fix two lonely, broken, and lost souls together?

The lone wolf inside her howls at the moon; pleading with the night to guide her home.

All the flowers in my house dried up and died, maybe because only they have seen me when nobody is around.

How lonely it is with tears and heartbreak for company.

Life is a lonely journey. We expect and even believe that someone will always be there for us, but that illusion fades away with age and time.

How lonely it feels to be next to you.