There's No Use Trying To Live In

Rilla's Heart Skipped A Beat — Or, If That Be A Physiological Impossibility, She Thought It Did.

When I Left Queen's My Future Seemed To Stretch Out Before Me Like A Straight Road. I Thought I Could See Along It For Many A Milestone. Now There Is A Bend In It. I Don't Know What Lies Around The Bend, But I'm Going To Believe That The Best Does.

I Doubt If I Shall Ever Have Time To Read The Book Again -- There Are Too Many New Ones Coming Out All The Time Which I Want To Read. Yet An Old Book Has Something For Me Which No New Book Can Ever Have -- For At Every Reading The Memories And Atmosphere Of Other Readings Come Back And I Am Reading Old Years As Well As An Old Book.

Hark, I Hear A Robin Calling! List, The Wind Is From The South! And The Orchard-bloom Is Falling Sweet As Kisses On The Mouth. In The Dreamy Vale Of Beeches Fair And Faint Is Woven Mist, And The River's Orient Reaches Are The Palest Amethyst. Every Limpid Brook Is Singing Of The Lure Of April Days; Every Piney Glen Is Ringing With The Maddest Roundelays. Come And Let Us Seek Together Springtime Lore Of Daffodils, Giving To The Golden Weather Greeting On The Sun-warm Hills.

I Read In A Book Once That A Rose By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet, But I've Never Been Able To Believe It. I Don't Believe A Rose Would Be As Nice If It Was Called A Thistle Or A Skunk Cabbage.