No, I won't marry you. I won't do it. No one can force me.

He loved me. He'd loved me as long as he he'd known me! I hadn't loved him as long perhaps, but now I loved him equally well, or better. I loved his laugh, his handwriting, his steady gaze, his honorableness, his freckles, his appreciation of my jokes, his hands, his determination that I should know the worst of him. And, most of all, shameful though it might be, I loved his love for me.

If beginnings terrify you, or if you just plain don't like writing them, or if they bore you, skip 'em.

I shan't marry a prince!

I love having written. Sometimes I love writing. I love to revise. Revising is my favorite part of writing.

It is helpful to know the proper way to behave, so one can decide whether or not to be proper.

That's funny, you're funny. I like you, I'm quite taken by you.