A bit of trash now and then is good for the severest reader. It provides the necessary roughage in the literary diet.
A lover would find life less broken apart after a misguided love affair if they could feel that they had been sinful rather than foolish.
Behind every myth lies a truth; beyond every legend is reality, as radiant (sometimes as chilling) as the story itself.
Children are forced to live very rapidly in order to live at all. They are given only a few years in which to learn hundreds of thousands of things about life and the planet and themselves.
Children from ten to twenty don't want to be understood. Their whole ambition is to feel strange and alien and misinterpreted so that they can live austerely in some stone tower of adolescence, their privacies unviolated.
Compromise, if not the spice of life, is its solidity. It is what makes nations great and marriages happy.
If childhood is still a state, it is now chiefly a state of confusion.
It is the leisured, I have noticed, who rebel the most at an interruption of routine.
Meanness inherits a set of silverware and keeps it in the bank. Economy uses it only on important occasions, for fear of loss. Thrift sets the table with it every night for pure pleasure, but counts the butter spreaders before they are put away.
Nothing fails like success; nothing is so defeated as yesterday's triumphant Cause.
Of one thing I am certain, the body is not the measure of healing, peace is the measure.
People are no longer sinful, they are only immature or underprivileged or frightened or, more particularly, sick.
Praise is warming and desirable. But it is an earned thing. It has to be deserved, like a hug from a child.
Stir the eggnog, lift the toddy, Happy New Year everybody.
The ability to forget a sorrow is childhood's most enchanting feature.
The knowingness of little girls, is hidden underneath their curls.
The mass of men live lives of quiet exasperation.
There are books that one needs maturity to enjoy just as there are books an adult can come on too late to savor.
These are my daughters, I suppose. But where in the world did the children vanish?
This is the gist of what I know: Give advice and buy a foe.
Those wearing Tolerance for a label call other views intolerable.
Time is the thief you cannot banish.
What in me is pure conviction is simple prejudice in you.
Women are not men's equals in anything except responsibility. We are not their inferiors, either, or even their superiors. We are quite simply different races.
Women are the fulfilled sex. Through our children we are able to produce our own immortality, so we lack that divine restlessness which sends men charging off in pursuit of fortune or fame or an imagined Utopia. That is why we number so few geniuses among us. The wholesome oyster wears no pearl, the healthy whale no ambergris, and as long as we can keep on adding to the race, we harbor a sort of health within ourselves.
Words can sting like anything, but silence breaks the heart.
Found 26 occurence(s) in 51,815 quotation(s).