It's all very well to read about sorrows and imagine yourself living through them heroically, but it's not so nice when you really come to have them, is it?

I'm sure I shall always feel like a child in the wood.

Trees have as much individuality as human beings. Not even two spruces are alike. There is always some kink or curve or bend of bough to single each one out from its fellows.

There isn't any such thing as an ordinary life. (92)

I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.

The only true animal is a cat, and the only true cat is a gray cat.

I don't know, I don't want to talk as much. (...) It's nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one's heart, like treasures. I don't like to have them laughed at or wondered over.