But Anne with her elbows on the window sill, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorious dome of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth's own optimism. All the Beyond was hers, with its possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years — each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.

... we always love best the people who need us.

She looks just as music sounds, I think,' answered Anne.

I must be getting old ... People are beginning to tell me I look so young. They never tell you that when you are young.

That is one consolation when you are poor—there are so many more things you can imagine about.

Most of the trouble in life comes from misunderstanding, I think,' said Anne.

Some people go through life trying to find out what the world holds for them only to find out too late that it's what they bring to the world that really counts.