When I Make Up My Mind To

But Anne With Her Elbows On The Window Sill, Her Soft Cheek Laid Against Her Clasped Hands, And Her Eyes Filled With Visions, Looked Out Unheedingly Across City Roof And Spire To That Glorious Dome Of Sunset Sky And Wove Her Dreams Of A Possible Future From The Golden Tissue Of Youth's Own Optimism. All The Beyond Was Hers, With Its Possibilities Lurking Rosily In The Oncoming Years — Each Year A Rose Of Promise To Be Woven Into An Immortal Chaplet.

A Broken Heart In Real Life Isn't Half As Dreadful As It Is In Books. It's A Good Deal Like A Bad Tooth, Though You Won't Think That A Very Romantic Simile. It Takes Spells Of Aching And Gives You A Sleepless Night Now And Then, But Between Times It Lets You Enjoy Life And Dreams And Echoes And Peanut Candy As If There Were Nothing The Matter With It.

She Had Never Before Minded Being Alone. Now She Dreaded It. When She Was Alone Now She Felt So Dreadfully Alone.

Proverbs Are All Very Fine When There's Nothing To Worry You, But When You're In Real Trouble, They're Not A Bit Of Help.

When One Great Passion Seizes Possession Of The Soul All Other Feelings Are Crowded Out.