She thought of the library, so shining white and new; the rows and rows of unread books; the bliss of unhurried sojourns there and of going out to a restaurant, alone, to eat.

Good things come, but they're never perfect; are they? You have to twist them into something perfect.

The most important part of religion isn't in any church. It's down in your own heart. Religion is in your thoughts, and in the way you act from day to day, in the way you treat other people. It's honesty, and unselfishness, and kindness. Especially kindness.

It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.

The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.

Then he kissed her. Betsy didn't believe in letting boys kiss you. She thought it was silly to be letting first this boy and then that one kiss you, when it didn't mean a thing. But it was wonderful when Joe Willard kissed her. And it did mean a thing.

Betsy. The great war is on but I hope ours is over. Please come home. Joe.