But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop and that hurts.

The point of good writing is knowing when to stop.

Don't look at me so sorrowfully and so disapprovingly, dearest. I can't be sober and serious - everything looks so rosy and rainbowy to me.

Comedy and tragedy are so mixed up in life, Gilbert. The only thing that haunts me is that tale of the two who lived together fifty years and hated each other all that time. I can't believe they really did. Somebody has said that 'hate is only love that has missed its way.' I feel sure that under the hatred they really loved each other . . . just as I really loved you all those years I thought I hated you . . . and I think death would show it to them. I'm glad I found out in life.

I think it would be worse to expect nothing than to be disappointed.

But was anything in life, Anne asked herself wearily, like one's imagination of it?

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