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.

There is no bond like the bond of having read and liked the same books.

There are brown eyes in the world, after all, as well as blue, and one pair of brown that meant heaven to me as the blue had never done

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.

Life will give you what you ask of here if only you ask long enough and plainly enough.

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.

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.