Quote

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.

Louisa May Alcott

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Louisa May Alcott
Age: 55 †
Born: 1832
Born: November 29
Died: 1888
Died: March 6
Domestic Worker
Novelist
Nurse
Poet
Suffragette
Teacher
Writer
Germantown
Philadelphia
A. M. Barnard
Flora Fairfield
Flora Fairchild
Trying
Bread
Make
Daily
Dear
Regret
Sweet
Cheerfulness
Attitude
Earn
Fun
Cake
Must
Bitter

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You have a good many little gifts and virtues, but there is no need of parading them, for conceit spoils the finest genius. There is not much danger that real talent or goodness will be overlooked long, and the great charm of all power is modesty.
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I like to help women help themselves, as that is, in my opinion, the best way to settle the woman question. Whatever we can do and do well we have a right to, and I don't think any one will deny us.
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Don't try to make me grow up before my time.
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Oh dear, life is pretty tough sometimes, isn't it?
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It takes two flints to make a fire.
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She had a womanly instinct that clothes possess an influence more powerful over many than the worth of character or the magic of manners.
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Housekeeping ain't no joke.
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Such hours are beautiful to live, but very hard to describe.
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O vanity, mislead no more!
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Men are often bad, but babies never are.
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Love and Loyalty If ever men and women are their simplest, sincerest selves, it is when suffering softens the one, and sympathy strengthens the other.
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If I didn't care about doing right and didn't feel uncomfortable doing wrong, I should get on capitally.
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Jo's breath gave out here, and wrapping her head in the paper, she bedewed her little story with a few natural tears, for to be independent and earn the praise of those she loved were the dearest wishes of her heart, and this seemed to be the first step toward that happy end.
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She preferred imaginary heroes to real ones, because when tired of them, the former could be shut up in the tin kitchen till called for, and the latter were less manageable.
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I don't worry about the storms, I am learning to sail my own ship.
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All is fish that comes to the literary net. Goethe puts his joys and sorrows into poems, I turn my adventures into bread and butter.
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Dan clung to her in speechless gratitude, feeling the blessedness of mother love, — that divine gift which comforts, purifies, and strengthens all who seek it.
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The female population exceeds the male, you know, especially in New England, which accounts for the high state of culture we are in, perhaps.
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It’s amazing how lovely common things become, if one only knows how to look at them.
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Cast your bread upon the waters, and after many days it will come back buttered.
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