I Am Simply A Book Drunkard.

My Life Is A Perfect Graveyard Of Buried Hopes.

She Seemed To Walk In An Atmosphere Of Things About To Happen.

That's The Worst…or The Best…of Real Life, Anne. It Won't Let You Be Miserable. It Keeps On Trying To Make You Comfortable…and Succeeding…even When You're Determined To Be Unhappy And Romantic.

Hark, I Hear A Robin Calling! List, The Wind Is From The South! And The Orchard-bloom Is Falling Sweet As Kisses On The Mouth. In The Dreamy Vale Of Beeches Fair And Faint Is Woven Mist, And The River's Orient Reaches Are The Palest Amethyst. Every Limpid Brook Is Singing Of The Lure Of April Days; Every Piney Glen Is Ringing With The Maddest Roundelays. Come And Let Us Seek Together Springtime Lore Of Daffodils, Giving To The Golden Weather Greeting On The Sun-warm Hills.

[o]ne Can Dream So Much Better In A Room Where There Are Pretty Things.