All is fish that comes to the literary net. Goethe puts his joys and sorrows into poems, I turn my adventures into… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
For with eyes made clear by many tears, and a heart softened by the tenderest sorrow, she recognized the beauty of her… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
…in silence learned the sweet solace which affection administers to sorrow. — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
One of the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us how well we are loved, how much kindness… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
He looked at her an instant, for the effect of the graceful girlish figure with pale, passionate face and dark eyes full… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“Take some books and read; that’s an immense help; and books are always good company if you have the right sort.” — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“At three o'clock in the afternoon, all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais—a charming place, for the wide walk, bordered with palms, flowers, and tropical shrubs, is bounded on one side by the sea, on the other by the grand drive, lined with hotels and villas, while beyond lie orange orchards and the… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share
“Please could I say one word?" was the question three times repeated before a rough head boobed out from the grotto of books in… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“She would make a man of me. She puts strength and courage into me as no one else can. She is unlike any girl… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“I read somewhere that every inch of rope used in the British Navy has a strand of red in it, so that wherever a… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“Chance words spoken in kindness often help amazingly; and that's what old people are here for -- else their experience is of little use.” — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“Tired of my own company, I suppose, now I've seen so much better.” — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
Oft in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high, When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's shrill… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
“I'll try and be what he loves to call me, 'a little woman' and not be rough and wild, but do my duty here… — Louisa May Alcott Copy Share Image
