As she came closer to him she noticed that there was a clean fresh scent of heather and grass and leaves about him, almost as if he were made of them. She liked it very much and when she looked into his funny face with the red cheeks and round blue eyes she forgot that she had felt shy.
Frances Hodgson BurnettShe liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things and telling them to herself.
Frances Hodgson BurnettTwo things cannot be in one place. Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow.
Frances Hodgson Burnett