Youth Is Not A Vanished

I Have A Little Brown Cocoon Of An Idea That May Possibly Expand Into A Magnificent Moth Of Fulfilment.

Gossip, As Usual, Was One-third Right And Two-thirds Wrong.

Nobody Is Ever Too Old To Dream. And Dreams Never Grow Old.

It Doesn't Take Long To Stay An Hour.

“you 're Not Eating Anything,” Said Marilla Sharply, Eying Her As If It Were A Serious Shortcoming. Anne Sighed. “i Can 't. I'm In The Depths Of Despair. Can You Eat When You Are In The Depths Of Despair?”