Jo had learned that hearts, like flowers, cannot be rudely handled, but must open naturally…

…the child's heart bled when it was broken.

The dirt is picturesque, so I don't mind.

I'm afraid I couldn't like him without a spice of human naughtiness.

Jo's ambition was to do something very splendid; what it was she had no idea, as yet, but left it for time to tell her…

When we make little sacrifices we like to have them appreciated, at least…