Gilbert, I'm Afraid I'm Scandalously

Who Would Endure Life If It Were Not For The Hope Of Death?

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.

There Be Three Gentle And Goodlie Things, To Be Here, To Be Together, And To Think Well Of One Another.

I Can't Help Flying Up On The Wings Of Anticipation. It's As Glorious As Soaring Through A Sunset... Almost Pays For The Thud.

I Am Simply A 'book Drunkard.' Books Have The Same Irresistible Temptation For Me That Liquor Has For Its Devotee. I Cannot Withstand Them.