It is not, Dear, because I am alone, For I am lonelier when the rest are near, But that my place against your heart has grown Too dear to dream of when you are not here.

I never read prefaces, and it is not much good writing things just for people to skip. I wonder other authors have never thought of this.

I think everyone in the world is friends if you can only get them to see you don't want to be un-friends.

Time and space are only forms of thought.

It is curious that nearly all the great fortunes are made by turning beautiful things into ugly ones. Making beauty out of ugliness is very ill-paid work.

Then suddenly Jack was a changed boy. Something wonderful had happened to him, and it had made him different. It sometimes happened to people that they see or hear something quite wonderful and then they are never altogether the same again.

everything has an end, and you get to it if you only keep on.