In Time They Could Not Even Fly

The Fairies, As Their Custom, Clapped Their Hands With Delight Over Their Cleverness, And They Were So Madly In Love With The Little House That They Could Not Bear To Think They Had Finished It.

I Am The Best There Ever Was!

To Die Will Be An Awfully Big Adventure.

Always Try To Be A Litle Kinder Than Necessary.

Oh, You Mysterious Girls, When You Are Fifty-two We Shall Find You Out; You Must Come Into The Open Then. If The Mouth Has Fallen Sourly Yours The Blame: All The Meanness Your Youth Concealed Have Been Gathering In Your Face. But The Pretty Thoughts And Sweet Ways And Dear, Forgotten Kindnesses Linger There Also, To Bloom In Your Twilight Like Evening Primroses.