Colleen

“I know the end is the same; but it does make a difference how they turn to ashes, and how I spend my life. That log, with its one dull spot of fire, give neither light nor warmth, but lies sizzling despondently among the cinders. But the other grows from end to end with cheerful little flames that go singing up the chimney with a pleasant sound. It's light fills the room and shines out into the dark; its warmth draws us nearer, making the hearth the coziest place in the house, and we shall miss the friendly blaze when it dies. Yes,' she added, as if to herself, 'I hope my life may be like that, so that, whether it be long or short, it will be useful and cheerful while it lasts, will be missed when it ends, and leave something behind besides ashes.”
― Louisa May Alcott

“The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine, like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind, whispering to one another what they had seen; for some peeped in at the dining-room windows, where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch, and hall, and all, from the rosiest full-blown flower to the palest baby-bud, offered their tribute of beauty and fragrance to the gentle mistress who had loved and tended them for so long.”
― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

“She has no memories of her mother but imagines her as white, a soundless brilliance. Her father radiates a thousand colors, opal, strawberry red, deep russet, wild green; a smell like oil and metal, the feel of a lock tumbler sliding home, the sound of his key rings chiming as he walks.”
― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See

“If poverty persists in America, it is not for lack of resources.”
― Matthew Desmond, Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City