There might be some hours of loneliness. But there was something wonderful even in loneliness. At least you belonged to yourself when you were lonely.

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

Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare... Perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

That doesn't sound very attractive," laughed Anne. "I like people to have a little nonsense about them.

I'm just tired of everything…even of the echoes. There is nothing in my life but echoes…echoes of lost hopes and dreams and joys. They're beautiful and mocking.

I don't know which is worse - to have somebody you DON'T like ask you to marry him or NOT have some one you DO like. Both are rather unpleasant.

That's one of the things we learn as we grow older -- how to forgive. It comes easier at forty than it did at twenty.