The narrator finds that as a maturing character grows in stature before her friends that she sees less stature while evaluating herself.

Humility is the main ingredient of maturity.

Keep in yourself, and protect yourself, otherwise it will be too late, and you will not be remembered in the history.

To save myself I must face myself, which may be the hardest of all things to face.

Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply.

People live for the dream in their hearts. And I have yet to know anyone who has not some secret dream, some hope, however dim, some storied wall to look at in the dusk, some painted window leading to the soul.