Motivational quotes

I will try, Mother, I truly will. But you must help me, remind me, and keep me from flying out.

Jo asks her mother for practical support as she works on her temper.

I’ve been trying to cure it for forty years, and have only succeeded in controlling it. I am angry nearly every day of my life, Jo, but I have learned not to show it, and I still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so.

Mrs. March admits to Jo that managing her own anger is an unfinished lifelong practice.

She felt comforted at once by the sympathy and confidence given her.

Jo feels less alone after her mother admits that she also struggles with anger.

Have regular hours for work and play, make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well.

Mrs. March reminds her daughters to balance useful work with play rather than go to the opposite extreme of overwork.

But, you see, Jo wasn’t a heroine, she was only a struggling human girl like hundreds of others, and she just acted out her nature, being sad, cross, listless, or energetic, as the mood suggested.

The narrator allows Jo to remain an imperfect, grieving human being rather than turn into an idealized heroine after loss.

Feeling this, Jo’s burden seemed easier to bear, duty grew sweeter, and life looked more endurable, seen from the safe shelter of her mother’s arms.

Jo finds her grief more bearable through her mother’s patient presence and embrace.

It’s highly virtuous to say we’ll be good, but we can’t do it all at once, and it takes a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together before some of us even get our feet set in the right way.

The narrator describes personal growth after grief as a gradual shared effort, not an instant transformation.

She gave him entire confidence, he gave her the help she needed, and both found consolation in the act.

Jo and her father find mutual comfort by talking honestly about their grief after Beth’s death.

Write something for us, and never mind the rest of the world. Try it, dear. I’m sure it would do you good, and please us very much.

Mrs. March encourages the grieving Jo to begin writing again for the people who love her.

You are like a chestnut burr, prickly outside, but silky-soft within, and a sweet kernal, if one can only get at it. Love will make you show your heart one day, and then the rough burr will fall off.

Meg tells Jo that her prickly exterior hides tenderness that affection can help her show.

Beth smiled and felt comforted, for the tiny thing seemed to offer its small friendship and remind her that a pleasant world was still to be enjoyed.

Facing terminal illness, Beth finds a moment of companionship and pleasure in a small bird on the beach.

We won’t be miserable, but enjoy being together while we wait. We’ll have happy times, for I don’t suffer much, and I think the tide will go out easily, if you help me.

Beth asks Jo to share the time they still have together and help her face death; the passage is about companionship at the end of life.