How Green Was My Valley

Nobody is too young to be married. That is a law.

There is a good cup of tea when you are feeling low.

There is a strange you can tell London in a man's suit. Why is London such a wonderful place that it will speak to you even in a piece of cloth?

Owen was a quiet boy then. He had nothing to say to anybody, and of course everybody thought he was a fool.

Indeed, if happiness has a smell, I know it well, for our kitchen has always had it faintly, but in those days it was all over the house.

Now you know what hurt it brings to women when men come into the world.

It is strange how loud little sounds become when you are in the dark and doing something wrong.

A good friend of mine is a cup of tea, indeed.

"I am too young to give orders, perhaps", I said, "but too old to take orders from you".

Man will never know a woman until he knows her work.

"Your hair is white with you," I said. "The snow got into it".

What is in the Bible and what is outside is different.

There is a funny feeling you will have in you when you know trouble is being made and waiting for you, in a little time to come. It is as though you had an open window below there, and all the fears putting their hands in carelessly, not to hurt, but to make discomfort.

Pain is a good cleanser of the mind and therefore of the sight. Matters which seem to mean the world, in health, are found to be of no importance when pain is hard upon you.

There are some times in your life when you are asked a question and you know the answer well, but you cannot find the words to fit. They do sound so dull and silly, you feel shame.

The man is made of stone who will see a woman in her tears and keep voice and hands to himself.

There is a look in the eyes of a man in love that will have you in fits unless you are in love yourself. If you are, you will feel something more inside you to be of help to him, to try and have him happy even if there is no chance for you.

How is it that people who have shy strangest to stay, never think homesickness and many strange faces, habits, and voices may put ashes in the heart. You are used to the house and people yourself, you never come to think that what is ordinary to you may be a desert of woeful newness to another.

O, there is lovely to feel a book, a good book, firm in the hand, for its fatness holds rich promise, and you are hot inside to think of good hours to come.