But If You Call Me Anne, Please

Why Is It That The Nicest Things Never Are Healthy?

I Read Somewhere Once That Souls Were Like Flowers,' Said Priscilla. 'then Your Soul Is A Golden Narcissus,' Said Anne, 'and Diana's Is Like A Red, Red Rose. Jane's Is An Apple Blossom, Pink And Wholesome And Sweet.' 'and Our Own Is A White Violet, With Purple Streaks In Its Heart,' Finished Priscilla.

That's The Worst…or The Best…of Real Life, Anne. It Won't Let You Be Miserable. It Keeps On Trying To Make You Comfortable…and Succeeding…even When You're Determined To Be Unhappy And Romantic.

The Beauty Of Winter Is That It Makes You Appreciate Spring.

She Asked Me What Made Me Do Such A Thing. That Is An Awkward Question Because I Often Can't Tell What Makes Me Do Things. Sometimes I Do Them Just To Find Out What I Feel Like Doing Them. And Sometimes I Do Them Because I Want To Have Some Exciting Things To Tell My Grandchildren.