People were always saying to Margaret, 'Well, Julia sings and Betsy writes. Now what is little Margaret going to do?' Margaret would smile politely, for she was very polite, but privately she stormed to Betsy with flashing eyes, 'I'm not going to do anything. I want to just live. Can't people just live?
Maud Hart LovelaceShe thought of the library, so shining white and new; the rows and rows of unread books; the bliss of unhurried sojourns there and of going out to a restaurant, alone, to eat.
Maud Hart LovelaceAnd yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. but she was through with it except in her memories.
Maud Hart LovelaceTags: memories leaving betsy-tacy
We'll just have to find more flowers in the spring. That's when they bloom, tra la.
Maud Hart LovelaceTags: humor
When there are boys you have to worry about how you look, and whether they like you, and why they like another girl better, and whether they're going to ask you to something or other. It's a strain.
Maud Hart LovelaceTags: humor true-to-life
The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.
Maud Hart LovelaceOne strain could call up the quivering expectancy of Christmas Eve, childhood, joy and sadness, the lonely wonder of a star
Maud Hart LovelaceTags: holiday
Good things come, but they're never perfect; are they? You have to twist them into something perfect.
Maud Hart LovelaceIsn't it mysterious to begin a new journal like this? I can run my fingers through the fresh clean pages but I cannot guess what the writing on them will be.
Maud Hart LovelaceSay, you told me you thought Les Miserables was the greatest novel ever written. I think Vanity Fair is the greatest. Let's fight. - Joe Willard
Maud Hart LovelaceTags: flirting classic-literature
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