I cannot remember back to a year in which I did not consider myself to be a writer, and the younger I was the bigger that capital 'W.
Maud Hart LovelaceIsn'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.
Maud Hart LovelaceGood things come, but they're never perfect; are they? You have to twist them into something perfect.
Maud Hart LovelaceWe'll just have to find more flowers in the spring. That's when they bloom, tra la.
Maud Hart Lovelace