A Quote by Frances Hodgson Burnett

You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you're too curious. — © Frances Hodgson Burnett
You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you're too curious.
In losing a friend, she is reminded of all she has lost and all she stands to lose again. There is nothing to be done to make it any easier. We all grieve alone.
It is curious how instinctively one protects the image of oneself from idolatry or any other handling that could make it ridiculous, or too unlike the original to be believed any longer.
Youth is like spring, an over praised season more remarkable for biting winds than genial breezes. Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.
It's a lot easier to lose than it is to win. It's easier, but it's not more comfortable.
No one loses any other life than the one he now lives, nor does one live any other life than that which he will lose.
What kind of Christian are you? Did you ever lose a job, or lose a night's sleep, or lose a friend for God? If your Christianity never costs you a dollar, never cost you a friend, never cost any tears or broken heart, then can you really say that you love the Lord very much? To be a really good Christian is going to cost you.
That’s what learning is, after all; not whether we lose the game, but how we lose and how we’ve changed because of it, and what we take away from it that we never had before, to apply to other games. Losing, in a curious way is winning.
Mathematical discoveries, like springtime violets in the woods, have their season which no man can hasten or retard.
Mathematical discoveries, like springtime violets in the woods, have their season which no human can hasten or retard.
Unfortunately, our sport has a weight limit, so every season, I have to lose weight. You just get tired of not eating the way you want to eat, so in the off-season, I'll binge and gain a few pounds and then have to lose them back.
I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim too ugly or too this or too that.
Were it not that it might require too long a discussion, it would not be difficult to demonstrate that a large and well-organized republic can scarcely lose its liberty from any other cause than that of anarchy, to which a contempt of the laws is the high-road.
We are bound to lose Ireland in consequence of years of cruelty, stupidity and misgovernment and I would rather lose her as a friend than as a foe.
I can't speak for other people, but I still hate losing. When I did lose, I found it easier to yell than to cry. Guys aren't supposed to cry, are they?
It is more difficult for any coach to work in the Premier League than any other league. You can lose or win against any team.
It is curious how sometimes the memory of death lives on for so much longer than the memory of the life that it purloined. Over the years, as the memory of Sophie Mol ... slowly faded, the Loss of Sophie Mol grew robust and alive. It was always there. Like a fruit in season. Every season. As permanent as a government job.
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