At seventeen dreams DO satisfy because you think the realities are waiting for you farther on.

When one great passion seizes possession of the soul all other feelings are crowded out.

She asked me what made me do such a thing. That is an awkward question because I often can't tell what makes me do things. Sometimes I do them just to find out what I feel like doing them. And sometimes I do them because I want to have some exciting things to tell my grandchildren.

Everything that's worth having is some trouble.

That's one splendid thing about such affairs — it's so lovely to look back to them.

It's bad enough to feel insignificant, but it's unbearable to have it grained into your soul that you will never, can never, be anything but insignificant.

I don't want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more 'scope for imagination' without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn't matter. We'll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.