Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts not measured words, but pouring them right… - Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

It is one of my decided opinions that married people ought to have no one, be the tie ever so close and dear, living permanently with them, to break the sacred duality — no, let me say the unity of their home.

The lad, like many another, owed nothing to his father but his mere existence — Heaven knows whether that gift is oftenest a curse or a boon.

They were neither of them in a high sphere of life. Rhoda was a farmer’s daughter, the only one among a troop of great rough brothers, some younger, some older than herself. She was not more than twelve years of age, and yet she had been for a year the little mistress of the family, for her mother had long been dead.