She Had Looked Her Duty Courageously In

People Who Don't Like Cats Always Seem To Think There Is Some Peculiar Virtue In Not Liking Them.

One June Evening, When The Orchards Were Pink-blossomed Again, When The Frogs Were Singing Silverly Sweet In The Marshes About The Head Of The Lake Of Shining Waters, And The Air Was Full Of The Savor Of Clover Fields And Balsamic Fir Woods, Anne Was Sitting By Her Gable Window. She Had Been Studying Her Lessons, But It Had Grown Too Dark To See The Book, So She Had Fallen Into Wide-eyed Reverie, Looking Out Past The Boughs Of The Snow Queen, Once More Bestarred With Its Tufts Of Blossom.

One Reason Why I Like Writing Poetry - You Can Say So Many Things In It That Are True In Poetry But Wouldn't Be True In Prose.

To Love Is Easy And Therefore Common - But To Understand - How Rare It Is!

I'm So Glad My Window Looks East Into The Sunrising- It's So Splendid To See The Morning Coming Up Over Those Long Hills And Glowing Through Those Sharp Fir Tops. It's New Every Morning, And I Feel As If I Washed My Very Soul In That Bath Of Earliest Sunshine.