Louisa May Alcott
Louisa May Alcott
Louisa May Alcottwas an American novelist and poet best known as the author of the novel Little Womenand its sequels Little Menand Jo's Boys. Raised by her transcendentalist parents, Abigail May and Amos Bronson Alcott in New England, she grew up among many of the well-known intellectuals of the day such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Henry David Thoreau...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth29 November 1832
CityPhiladelphia, PA
CountryUnited States of America
Now we are expected to be as wise as men who have had generations of all the help there is, and we scarcely anything.
The duty we owe ourselves is greater than that we owe others.
I was thinking what a curious thing love is; only a sentiment, and yet it has power to make fools of men and slaves of women.
Have your fun, my dear; but if you must earn your bread, try to make it sweet with cheerfulness, not bitter with the daily regret that it isn't cake.
Salt is like good-humor, and nearly every thing is better for a pinch of it.
Conceit spoils the finest genius?and the great charm of all power is modesty.
I never knew how much like heaven this world could be, when two people love and live for one another!
We don't choose our talents; but we needn't hide them in a napkin because they are not just what we want.
…for no matter how lost and soiled and worn-out wandering sons may be, mothers can forgive and forget every thing as they fold them into their fostering arms. Happy the son whose faith in his mother remains unchanged, and who, through all his wanderings, has kept some filial token to repay her brave and tender love.
It takes so little to make a child happy, that it is a pity in a world full of sunshine and pleasant things, that there should be any wistful faces, empty hands, or lonely little hearts.
At twenty-five, girls begin to talk about being old maids, but secretly resolve that they never will. At thirty, they say nothing about it, but quietly accept the fact.
Fame is a pearl many dive for and only a few bring up. Even when they do, it is not perfect, and they sigh for more, and lose better things in struggling for them.
…on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries.
Cast your bread upon the waters, and after many days it will come back buttered.