Suddenly she felt strong and happy. She was not afraid of the darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that she would never fear them again. No matter what mists might curl around her in the future, she knew her refuge. She started briskly up the street toward home and the blocks seemed very long. Far, far too long. She caught up her skirts to her knees and began to run lightly. But this time she was not running from fear. She was running because Rhett's arms were at the end of the street.
Margaret MitchellNow he saw that she understood entirely too well and he felt the usual masculine indignation at the duplicity of women. Added to it was the usual masculine disillusionment in discovering that a woman has a brain.
Margaret MitchellDo I understand, sir, that you mean the Cause for which our heroes have died is not sacred?' If you were run over by a railroad train your death wouldnโt sanctify the railroad company, would it?' asked Rhett and his voice sounded as if he were humbly seeking information.
Margaret MitchellAll wars are sacred to those who have to fight them. If the people who started wars didn't make them sacred, who would be foolish enough to fight?
Margaret Mitchell