Poor is the power of the lead that becomes bullets compared to the power of the hot metal that becomes types.

It was jolly in the country. A cow and little pigs to play with and milk warm from the cow.

My first experiences of academic friendship made me smile in after years when I looked back on them. But my circle of acquaintances had gradually grown so large that it was only natural new friendships should grow out of it.

Poor is the power of the lead that becomes bullets compared to the power of the hot metal that becomes types.

I was always hearing that I was pale and thin and small.

I came into the world two months too soon, I was in such a hurry.

On the whole, the world was friendly. It chiefly depended on whether one were good or not.