Cast Your Bread Upon The

Meg's High-heeled Slippers Were Dreadfully Tight, And Hurt Her, Though She Would Not Own It; And Jo's Nineteen Hair-pins All Seemed Stuck Straight Into Her Head, Which Was Not Exactly Comfortable; But, Dear Me, Let Us Be Elegant Or Die.

Well, I Am Happy, And I Won't Fret, But It Does Seem As If The More One Gets The More One Wants.

Oh Dear, Life Is Pretty Tough Sometimes, Isn't It?

If Life Is Often So Hard As This, I Don't See How We Ever Shall Get Through It.

I Want To Be Great, Or Nothing. I Won't Be A Commonplace Dauber, So I Don't Intend To Try Any More.