No One Can Be Free Who Has

I Wonder Why People So Commonly Suppose That If Two Individuals Are Both Writers They Must Therefore Be Hugely Congenial.

Snow In April Is Abominable," Said Anne. "like A Slap In The Face When You Expect A Kiss.

I Don't Want Sunbursts And Marble Halls. I Just Want You. Sunbursts And Marble Halls May Be All Very Well, But There Is More 'scope For Imagination' Without Them. And As For The Waiting, That Doesn't Matter. We'll Just Be Happy, Waiting And Working For Each Other—and Dreaming. Oh, Dreams Will Be Very Sweet Now.

I'm Just Tired Of Everything…even Of The Echoes. There Is Nothing In My Life But Echoes…echoes Of Lost Hopes And Dreams And Joys. They're Beautiful And Mocking.

It’s So Much More Romantic To End A Story Up With A Funeral Than A Wedding.