"She brought me over this glass of currant jelly, and said she was sorry to miss you." "Why, what could she have meant ?" asked Molly.

"She hates me and she knows I've never liked her." "Like most folks it ain't Sarah but the way you take her that matters.
We've all got the split somewhar in our shell if you jest know how to find it.

I reckon she's given in about Abel an' came over to show it." "I'm glad she brought you the jelly, and perhaps she is getting softer with age," rejoined Molly, still puzzled.
"Don't worry, honey, she's a good woman at bottom, but mortal slow of larnin', and thar's a lot of Sarah in that boy of hers." "I suppose there is, grandfather, for all their fierce quarrelling.

They have the kind of love that will die for you and yet will not so much as suffer you to live.

That's the way Mrs.Revercomb loves, and it's the way Abel is loving me now." "Let him larn, pretty, let him larn.