It Will Come Sometime. Some Beautiful Morning

The Woods Are Never Solitary--they Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity.

She Wanted To Be Alone - To Think Things Out - To Adjust Herself, If It Were Possible, To The New World In Which She Seemed To Have Been Transplanted With A Suddenness And Completeness That Left Her Half Bewildered To Her Own Identity.

I Don't Know Which Is Worse - To Have Somebody You Don't Like Ask You To Marry Him Or Not Have Some One You Do Like. Both Are Rather Unpleasant.

Fairyland Is The Loveliest Word Because It Means Everything The Human Heart Desires.

I Don't Know, I Don't Want To Talk As Much. (...) It's Nicer To Think Dear, Pretty Thoughts And Keep Them In One's Heart, Like Treasures. I Don't Like To Have Them Laughed At Or Wondered Over.