All Children, Except One, Grow Up.

I Don't Want To Go To School And Learn Solemn Things.

She Adored All Beautiful Things In Their Every Curve And Fragrance, So That They Became Part Of Her. Day By Day, She Gathered Beauty; Had She Had No Heart (she Who Was The Bosom Of Womanhood) Her Thoughts Would Still Have Been As Lilies, Because The Good Is The Beautiful.

Oh, The Cleverness Of Me!

I'm Youth, I'm Joy, I'm A Little Bird That Has Broken Out Of The Egg.

For When You Looked Into My Mother's Eyes You Knew, As If He Had Told You, Why God Sent Her Into The World - It Was To Open Then Minds Of All Who Looked To Beautiful Thoughts. And That Is The Beginning And End Of Literature.