All I Want Is A Dress With

You Were Never Poor As Long As You Had Something To Love.

Have You Ever Noticed That When People Say It Is Their Duty To Tell You A Certain Thing You May Prepare For Something Disagreeable? Why Is It That They Never Seem To Think It A Duty To Tell You The Pleasant Things They Hear About You?

You Have The Itch For Writing Born In You. It's Quite Incurable. What Are You Going To Do With It?

I Wonder What A Soul…a Person's Soul…would Look Like,' Said Priscilla Dreamily. 'like That, I Should Think,' Answered Anne, Pointing To A Radiance Of Sifted Sunlight Streaming Through A Birch Tree. 'only With Shape And Features Of Course. I Like To Fancy Souls As Being Made Of Light. And Some Are All Shot Through With Rosy Stains And Quivers…and Some Have A Soft Glitter Like Moonlight On The Sea…and Some Are Pale And Transparent Like Mist At Dawn.

Fancies Are Like Shadows...you Can't Cage Them, They're Such Wayward, Dancing Things.