“That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her spine. What did that make anger? The antithesis ofgrace?”

“Just thinking about him made her smile, sent a cheerful little shiver up her spine. Love was terrifying and weird, and sometimes uncomfortable. But it was so fucking sweet”

“The thought that, insignificant as she was, she yet might do some good, made her very careful of her acts and words, and so anxious to keep head contented and face happy, that she forgot her clothes, and made others do the same. She did not know it, but that good old fashion of simplicity made the plain gowns pretty, and the grace of unconsciousness beautified their little wearer with the charm that makes girlhood sweetest to those who truly love and reverence it.”

“Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eyes. In every gesture, dignity and love.”

“Above all remember this: that magic belongs as much to the heart as to the head and everything which is done, should be done from love or joy or righteous anger (from Ladies of Grace Adieu).”

“That he loved her was his life’s greatest grace—that she loved him was a burden and mystery beyond compare.”