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.

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

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

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

You have two numbers in your age when you are ten. It's the beginning of growing up.

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

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.