Jane's stories are extremely sensible. Then Diana puts too many murders into hers. She says most of the time she doesn't know what to do with the people so she kills them off to get rid of them.

An old house with its windows gone always makes me think of something dead with its eyes picked out.

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

Perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

There was something in her movements that made you think she never walked but always danced.

I heard someone say once that the years from fifteen to nineteen are the best years in a girl's life.

It's so hard to get up again—although of course the harder it is the more satisfaction you have when you do get up, haven't you?