We Are Never Half So Interesting When

It Always Amazes Me To Look At The Little, Wrinkled Brown Seeds And Think Of The Rainbows In 'em," Said Captain Jim. "when I Ponder On Them Seeds I Don't Find It Nowise Hard To Believe That We've Got Souls That'll Live In Other Worlds. You Couldn't Hardly Believe There Was Life In Them Tiny Things, Some No Bigger Than Grains Of Dust, Let Alone Colour And Scent, If You Hadn't Seen The Miracle, Could You?

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.

As She Walked Along She Dramatized The Night. There Was About It A Wild, Lawless Charm That Appealed To A Certain Wild, Lawless Strain Hidden Deep In Emily’s Nature—the Strain Of The Gypsy And The Poet, The Genius And The Fool.

It Was Three O'clock In The Morning – The Wisest And Most Accursed Hour Of The Clock. But Sometimes It Sets Us Free.

Besides, I've Been Feeling A Little Blue — Just A Pale, Elusive Azure. It Isn't Serious Enough For Anything Darker.