Nothing Worth While Is Every Easy Come

There Is Such A Place As Fairyland - But Only Children Can Find The Way To It...until They Have Grown So Old That They Forget The Way. Only A Few, Who Remain Children At Heart, Can Ever Find That Fair, Lost Path Again...the World Calls Them Singers And Poets And Artists And Story-tellers; But They Are Just People Who Have Never Forgotten The Way To Fairyland.

There Must Be A Limit To The Mistakes One Person Can Make, And When I Get To The End Of Them, Then I'll Be Through With Them. That's A Comforting Thought

A Bosom Friend - An Intimate Friend, You Know - A Really Kindred Spirit To Whom I Can Confide My Inmost Soul.

I Wonder What A Soul…a Person's Soul…would Look Like,' Said Priscilla Dreamily. 'like That, I Should Think,' Answered Anne, Pointing To A Radiance Of Sifted Sunlight Streaming Through A Birch Tree. 'only With Shape And Features Of Course. I Like To Fancy Souls As Being Made Of Light. And Some Are All Shot Through With Rosy Stains And Quivers…and Some Have A Soft Glitter Like Moonlight On The Sea…and Some Are Pale And Transparent Like Mist At Dawn.

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.