I Can't Get Over My Disappointment In

…because Talent Isn't Genius, And No Amount Of Energy Can Make It So. I Want To Be Great, Or Nothing.

Mrs. Jo Did Not Mean The Measles, But That More Serious Malady Called Love, Which Is Apt To Ravage Communities, Spring And Autumn, When Winter Gayety And Summer Idleness Produce Whole Bouquets Of Engagements, And Set Young People To Pairing Off Like The Birds.

The Humblest Tasks Get Beautified If Loving Hands Do Them.

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.

Jo Began To Dance A Jig,...amy Nearly Fell Out Of The Window In Her Surprise, And Meg Exclaimed, With Uplifted Hands, 'well I Do Believe The World Is Coming To An End!