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

Was life always like that? she wondered. A game of hide and seek in which you only occasionally found the person you wanted to be?

Do you girls have hope chests?' Lloyd asked. We certainly do.' I don't,' said Betsy. 'My husband and I are going to use paper plates and napkins.' Poor Joe!' Lucky Larry!

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.

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

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

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?