I Look At [books] As A Child

But Margaret Was At An Age When Any Apprehension, Not Absolutely Based On A Knowledge Of Facts, Is Easily Banished For A Time By A Bright Sunny Day, Or Some Happy Outward Circumstance. And When The Brilliant Fourteen Fine Days Of October Came On, Her Cares Were All Blown Away As Lightly As Thistledown, And She Thought Of Nothing But The Glories Of The Forest.

Yes! He Knew How She Would Love. He Had Not Loved Her Without Gaining That Instinctive Knowledge Of What Capabilities Were In Her. Her Soul Would Walk In Glorious Sunlight If Any Man Was Worthy, By His Power Of Loving, To Win Back Her Love.

He Could Remember All About It Now; The Pitiful Figure He Must Have Cut; The Absurd Way In Which He Had Gone And Done The Very Thing He Had So Often Agreed With Himself In Thinking Would Be The Most Foolish Thing In The World; And Had Met With Exactly The Consequences Which, In These Wise Moods, He Had Always Foretold Were Certain To Follow, If He Ever Did Make Such A Fool Of Himself.

I Do Try To Say, God’s Will Be Done, Sir,” Said The Squire, Looking Up At Mr. Gibson For The First Time, And Speaking With More Life In His Voice; “but It’s Harder To Be Resigned Than Happy People Think.

The French Girls Would Tell You, To Believe That You Were Pretty Would Make You So.