I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.

I should like the whole race of nurses to be abolished: children should be with their mother as much as possible, in my opinion.

Child of the pure, unclouded brow and dreaming eyes of wonder.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought!

I'd give all the wealth that years have piled, the slow result of life's decay, To be once more a little child for one bright summer day.

My hand moves because certain forces--electric, magnetic, or whatever 'nerve-force' may prove to be--are impressed on it by my brain. This nerve-force, stored in the brain, would probably be traceable, if Science were complete, to chemical forces supplied to the brain by the blood, and ultimately derived from the food I eat and the air I breathe.