Beth March Quotes

And then Jo met Professor Bhaer, so we had to watch that bit. And then Beth died. So I guess the March sisters were on their own jagged graph too.

(...) replied Mrs. March, who took peculiar pleasure in granting Beth's requests because she so seldom asked anything for herself.

The first person I knew who died was Beth March. I cried for three days.

Simple, sincere people seldom speak much of their piety; it shows itself in acts rather than in words, and has more influence than homilies or protestations.

To Beth, there isn’t an illness or sour mood that cats or a walk in the garden can’t heal.

And maybe I was a little intense. But not as much as the princess who marched into that court in a very unprofessional pair of jeans and a T-shirt, looking like she had gone to hell and back--and was about to drag the rest of us back there with her, just like I kinda planned to do. I knew it in a split second--and everybody else knew it too, even old Fabio--that we weren't just seeing a princess standing there in a pair of jeans and boots. We were all getting our first glimpse of the next queen.

Ser testigo de aquellos momentos enseñó a Jo más que el sermón más sabio, el himno más santo y la oración más fervorosa jamás pronunciada

Love is the only thing we can carry with us when we go, and it makes the end so easy.

El triste eclipse de un alma serena, la dura lucha de una vida joven con la muerte; pero ambos fueron misericordiosamente breves y, una vez vencida la rebeldía natural, la paz volvió con más belleza que nunca.

Have I been all that to you, Jo?” she asked, with wistful, humble earnestness. “Oh, Beth, so much!” And Jo’s head went down upon the pillow besides her sister’s. “Then I don’t feel as I’d wasted my life. I’m not so good as you make me, but I have tried to do right; and now, when it’s too late to begin even to do better, it’s such a comfort to know that someone loves me so much, and feels as if I’d helped them.” “More than any one in the world, Beth. I used to think I couldn’t let you go, but I’m learning to feel that I don’t lose you, that you’ll be more to me than ever, and death can’t part us, though it seems to.

Five sisters. That must have been hell." "Only when they forced me to dress up like a girl and play Amy whenever they reenacted Little Women" Giggling as quietly as possible, I say, "You had to play Amy? Why didn't they let you be Laurie?" "My sister Beth insisted on playing Laurie. Figure that one out. One of the March sisters had her very own name, but no sir, she had to be a boy. I had to pretend, dressed as a girl, to marry my own sister dressed as boy." His laugh is good-natured. "I believe the word thats coming to your mind is disturbing.

I never ought to, while I have you to cheer me up, Marmee, and Laurie to take more than half of every burden," replied Amy warmly. "He never lets me see his anxiety, but is so sweet and patient with me, so devoted to Beth, and such a stay and comfort to me always that I can't love him enough. So, in spite of my one cross, I can say with Meg, 'Thank God, I'm a happy woman.'" "There's no need for me to say it, for everyone can see that I'm far happier than I deserve," added Jo, glancing from her good husband to her chubby children, tumbling on the grass beside her. "Fritz is getting gray and stout. I'm growing as thin as a shadow, and am thirty. We never shall be rich, and Plumfield may burn up any night, for that incorrigible Tommy Bangs will smoke sweet-fern cigars under the bed-clothes, though he's set himself afire three times already. But in spite of these unromantic facts, I have nothing to complain of, and never was so jolly in my life. Excuse the remark, but living among boys, I can't help using their expressions now and then." "Yes, Jo, I think your harvest will be a good one," began Mrs. March, frightening away a big black cricket that was staring Teddy out of countenance. "Not half so good as yours, Mother. Here it is, and we never can thank you enough for the patient sowing and reaping you have done," cried Jo, with the loving impetuosity which she never would outgrow. "I hope there will be more wheat and fewer tares every year," said Amy softly.

No one spoke of the great trouble, not even Mrs. March, for all had learned by experience that when Jo was in that mood words were wasted, and the wisest course was to wait till some little accident, or her own generous nature, softened Jo's resentment and healed the breach. It was not a happy evening, for though they sewed as usual, while their mother read aloud from Bremer, Scott, or Edgeworth, something was wanting, and the sweet home peace was disturbed. They felt this most when singing time came, for Beth could only play, Jo stood dumb as a stone, and Amy broke down, so Meg and Mother sang alone. But in spite of their efforts to be as cheery as larks, the flutelike voices did not seem to chord as well as usual, and all felt out of tune.

No, I wouldn’t, for the smart caps won’t match the plain gowns without any trimming on them. Poor folks shouldn’t rig,” said Jo decidedly. “I wonder if I shall ever be happy enough to have real lace on my clothes and bows on my caps?” said Meg impatiently. “You said the other day that you’d be perfectly happy if you could only go to Annie Moffat’s,” observed Beth in her quiet way. “So I did! Well, I am happy, and I won’t fret, but it does seem as if the more one gets the more one wants, doesn’t it? There now, the trays are ready, and everything in but my ball dress, which I shall leave for Mother to pack,” said Meg, cheering up, as she glanced from the half-filled trunk to the many times pressed and mended white tarlaton, which she called her ‘ball dress’ with an important air. The next day was fine, and Meg departed in style for a fortnight of novelty and pleasure. Mrs. March had consented to the visit rather reluctantly, fearing that Margaret would come back more discontented than she went. But she begged so hard, and Sallie had promised to take good care of her, and a little pleasure seemed so delightful after a winter of irksome work that the mother yielded, and the daughter went to take her first taste of fashionable life. The Moffats were very fashionable, and simple Meg was rather daunted, at first, by the splendor of the house and the elegance of its occupants. But they were kindly people, in spite of the frivolous life they led, and soon put their guest at her ease. Perhaps Meg felt, without understanding why, that they were not particularly cultivated or intelligent people, and that all their gilding could not quite conceal the ordinary material of which they were made. It certainly was agreeable to fare sumptuously, drive in a fine carriage, wear her best frock every day, and do nothing but enjoy herself. It suited her exactly, and soon she began to imitate the manners and conversation of those about her, to put on little airs and graces,

I must march forward before my desire has flown and I become one of those contented souls chained to their small routine, all the while believing themselves to be free. Don’t think I mind a routine, that’s just what I’m craving. But the right routine. My routine. Two walks a day, several hours of reading, perhaps one visit with someone I enjoy. One dinner or entertainment per week if you must, possibly two, but please let there be reading.

MARCH 11 THE LEVEL OF TRUST WE HAVE FOR GOD IS A MONUMENTAL ISSUE IN THE LIFE OF EVERY BELIEVER.     God, even in this difficult place, You have treasures for me here. You will give me the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that I may know that You are the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons me by name (Isa. 45:3). You want me to discover the riches of relationship

I like Laurie for a girl, but I can’t think of any good boys’ names.” “I want to name it Beth,” spoke up Gabbie. “Laurie and Beth are both very pretty names,” said Mary Anne. She glanced at Jamie. He was scowling. “You know what I wanted to name my baby? I wanted to name her Stupid-head.” “Stupid-head!” cried Gabbie. She looked crushed. “Nah-nah and a boo-boo. That is so, so mean.” “It is not,” said Jamie. “I’m going home.” Gabbie marched out of the room. “I’m going to take a nap,” she called crossly to Mary Anne.

Jo took me to the beach. Because, she said, the ocean makes everything better.” Beth & Amy

But on the seventh day, march around the city seven times… .Then the city wall will collapse, and the people will advance. Joshua 6:4–5

Very ursine. Yes, Mr. Bhaer, your old bore. But she returns home to see Beth before she dies, and leaves him in Manhattan. All seems ended, until Amy and Laurie return home...man and...wife.' Jo looked at him. 'It was about art and music. And Paris. And Rome.' 'I get it." He shook his head, aghast. 'But, Jo.