You May Tire Of Reality But You

I Feel As Though Someone's Handed Me The Moon... And I Don't Exactly Know What To Do With It.

I'm Really A Very Happy, Contented Little Person In Spite Of My Broken Heart.

There Might Be Some Hours Of Loneliness. But There Was Something Wonderful Even In Loneliness. At Least You Belonged To Yourself When You Were Lonely.

What Care I If It Be "wild And Improbable" And "lacking In Literary Art"? I Refuse To Be Any Longer Hampered By Such Canons Of Criticism. The One Essential Thing I Demand Of A Book Is That It Should Interest Me. If It Does, I Forgive It Every Other Fault.

Some People Go Through Life Trying To Find Out What The World Holds For Them Only To Find Out Too Late That It's What They Bring To The World That Really Counts.