'dear God,' She Prayed, 'let

Francie Was Ten Years Old When She First Found An Outlet In Writing. What She Wrote Was Of Little Consequence. What Was Important Was That The Attempt To Write Stories Kept Her Straight On The Dividing Line Between Truth And Fiction. If She Had Not Found This Outlet In Writing, She Might Have Grown Up To Be A Tremendous Liar.

No. I Don't Want To Need Anybody. I Want Someone To Need Me ... I Want Someone To Need Me.

It Takes A Lot Of Doing To Die.

Oh, I Wish I Was Young Again When Everything Seemed So Wonderful!

Let Me Be Something Every Minute Of Every Hour Of My Life...and When I Sleep, Let Me Dream All The Time So That Not One Little Piece Of Living Is Ever Lost.