Nothing Remained But Loneliness And Grief.

I'd Have A Stable Full Of Arabian Steeds, Rooms Piled With Books, And I'd Write Out Of A Magic Inkstand, So That My Works Should Be As Famous As Laurie's Music. I Want To Do Something Splendid Before I Go Into My Castle,-something Heroic, Or Wonderful,-that Won't Be Forgotten After I'm Dead. I Don't Know What, But I'm On The Watch For It, And Mean To Astonish You All, Some Day. I Think I Shall Write Books, And Get Rich And Famous; That Would Suit Me, So That Is My Favorite Dream.

The Mere Possession Of A Gun Is, In Itself, An Urge To Kill, Not Only By Design, But By Accident, By Madness, By Fright, By Bravado.

Conceit Spoils The Finest Genius?and The Great Charm Of All Power Is Modesty.

…men Never Forgive Like Women.

Christmas Won't Be Christmas Without Any Presents," Grumbled Jo, Lying On The Rug. "it's So Dreadful To Be Poor!" Sighed Meg, Looking Down At Her Old Dress. "i Don't Think It's Fair For Some Girls To Have Plenty Of Pretty Things, And Other Girls Nothing At All," Added Little Amy, With An Injured Sniff. "we've Got Father And Mother, And Each Other," Said Beth Contentedly From Her Corner.