When I Make Up My Mind To

Make Them Do As You Want Them To," She Said. "i Can’t," Mourned Anne. "averil Is Such An Unmanageable Heroine. She Will Do And Say Things I Never Meant Her To. Then That Spoils Everything That Went Before And I Have To Write It All Over Again.

Trees, Unlike So Many Humans, Always Improve On Acquaintance. No Matter How Much You Like Them At The Start You Are Sure To Like Them Much Better Further On, And Best Of All When You Have Known Them For Years And Enjoyed Intercourse With Them In All Seasons.

The Point Of Good Writing Is Knowing When To Stop.

Gilbert Darling, Don't Let's Ever Be Afraid Of Things. It's Such Dreadful Slavery. Let's Be Daring And Adventurous And Expectant. Let's Dance To Meet Life And All It Can Bring To Us, Even If It Brings Scads Of Trouble And Typhoid And Twins!" (anne To Gilbert)

It Was October Again ... A Glorious October, All Red And Gold, With Mellow Mornings When The Valleys Were Filled With Delicate Mists As If The Spirit Of Autumn Had Poured Them In For The Sun To Drain - Amethyst, Pearl, Silver, Rose, And Smoke-blue. The Dews Were So Heavy That The Fields Glistened Like Cloth Of Silver And There Were Such Heaps Of Rustling Leaves In The Hollows Of Many-stemmed Woods To Run Crisply Through.