I hate to lend a book I love…it never seems quite the same when it comes back to me…
…and he wasn't reconciled to dying. Dora told him he was going to a better world. "Mebbe, mebbe," says poor Ben, "but I'm sorter used to the imperfections of this one.
…hate's got to be a disease with me.
We always hate people who surprise our secrets…
Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?
A cold in the head in June is an immoral thing...
She suddenly found herself laughing without bitterness.
Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.
Isn't it queer that the things we writhe over at night are seldom wicked things? Just humiliating ones.
…there was something about her that made you feel it was safe to tell her secrets.
Good night, belovedest. Your sleep will be sweet if there is any influences in the wishes of your own.
The Woman had told her that Tomorrow never comes, but Elizabeth knows better. It will come sometime. Some beautiful morning she will just wake up and find it is Tomorrow. Not Today but Tomorrow. And then things will happen…wonderful things.
Don't be ridiculous, please.' The most insulting words in the world!
But I believe I rather like superstitious people. They lend color to life. Wouldn't it be a rather drab world if everybody was wise and sensible . . . and good? What would we find to talk about?
