“That which is the wonder of one age is the commonplace of the next.”

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.

Once you begin being naughty, it is easier to go and on and on, and sooner or later something dreadful happens.

I can’t hit on women in public any more. I didn’t decide this; it just doesn’t feel right at my age.

It’s been an interesting life. I feel like I’m 40 years old at the age of 16.

Getting old is not for sissies.

I was sixteen then, and I’m seventeen now, and sometimes I act like I’m about thirteen. Sometimes, I act a lot older than I am–I really do. But people never notice it. People never notice anything.

I do believe in love. I don’t believe you find it at 16 but I think I believe in it.

We can be resentful of our age, or we can be grateful for having attained it.

Will future ages believe that such stupid bigotry ever existed!

Each age has deemed the new-born year the fittest time for festal cheer.