To Call That Writing, Madam, Is An

I Am Asking You To Marry Me Because I Love You,” He Said, “because I Cannot Imagine Living My Life Without You. I Want To See Your Face In The Morning, And Then At Night, And A Hundred Times In Between. I Want To Grow Old With You, I Want To Laugh With You, And I Want To Sigh To My Friends About How Managing You Are, All The While Secretly Knowing I Am The Luckiest Man In Town.” “what?” She Demanded. He Shrugged. “a Man’s Got To Keep Up Appearances. I’ll Be Universally Detested If Everyone Realizes How Perfect You Are.

Elizabeth, You Resemble Nothing So Much As A Hen Trying To Hatch A Book.

Be Careful What You Wish For,her Mind Thundered.

Olivia: You Didn't Even Know I Was There! Harry: Excuse Me, Yes I Did.

I’m Trying To Embroider.” Hyacinth Held Up Her Handiwork As Proof. “you’re Trying To Avoid—” Her Mother Stopped, Blinking. “i Say, Why Does That Flower Have An Ear?” “it’s Not An Ear.” Hyacinth Looked Down. “and It’s Not A Flower.” “wasn’t It A Flower Yesterday?” “i Have A Very Creative Mind,” Hyacinth Ground Out, Giving The Blasted Flower Another Ear. “that,” Violet Said, “has Never Been In Any Doubt.” Hyacinth Looked Down At The Mess On The Fabric. “it’s A Tabby Cat,” She Announced. “i Just Need To Give It A Tail.