People Cannot Be Molded Like Clay.

He Looked At Her An Instant, For The Effect Of The Graceful Girlish Figure With Pale, Passionate Face And Dark Eyes Full Of Sorrow, Pride And Resolution Was Wonderfully Enhanced By The Gloom Of The Great Room, And Glimpses Of A Gathering Storm In The Red Autumn Sky.

No Love Or Pity, Pardon Or Excuse Should Soften The Sharp Pang Of Reparation For The Guilty Man.

I Can't Get Over My Disappointment In Not Being A Boy.

...and Best Of All, The Wilderness Of Books, In Which She Could Wander, Where She Liked, Made The Library A Region Of Bliss To Her.

It Takes Two Flints To Make A Fire.