Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again.

The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.

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

You might as well learn right now, you two, that the poorest guide you can have in life is what people will say.

Isn't it mysterious to begin a new journal like this? I can run my fingers through the fresh clean pages but I cannot guess what the writing on them will be.

I'm finished with something, but I'm not beginning anything. That's wrong. When you finish something, you ought always to begin something new.

People were always saying to Margaret, 'Well, Julia sings and Betsy writes. Now what is little Margaret going to do?' Margaret would smile politely, for she was very polite, but privately she stormed to Betsy with flashing eyes, 'I'm not going to do anything. I want to just live. Can't people just live?