What is motherhood save Nature in her most gladsome mood?
The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.
My mother’s face floated to mind, a pale, reproachful moon, at her last and first visit to the asylum since my twentieth birthday. A daughter in an asylum! I had done that to her. Still, she had obviously decided to forgive me.
Motherhood is living in the eye of a hurricane.
It is only in the act of nursing that a woman realizes her motherhood in visible and tangible fashion; it is a joy of every moment.