“ She tried to act as though it were nothing to go to the library alone. But her happiness betrayed her. Her smile could not be restrained, and it spread from her tightly pressed mouth, to her round cheeks, almost to the hair ribbons tied in perky bows over her ears. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 2.2K
“ Julia was as happy as Betsy was, almost. One nice thing about Julia was that she rejoiced in other people's luck. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 2.8K
“ Betsy was so full of joy that she had to be alone. She went upstairs to her bedroom and sat down on Uncle Keith's trunk. Behind Tacy's house the sun had set. A wind had sprung up and the trees, their color dimmed, moved under a brooding sky. All the stories she had told Tacy and Tib seemed to be dancing in those trees, along with all the stories she planned to write some day and all the stories she would read at the library. Good stories. Great stories. The classics. Not Rena's novels. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 914
“ In silence the three of them looked at the sunset and thought about God. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 1.7K
“ Isn'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 Lovelace- Copy
“ Well, Betsy," he said, "your mother tells me that you are going to use Uncle Keith's trunk for a desk. That's fine. You need a desk. I've often noticed how much you like to write. The way you eat up those advertising tablets from the store! I never saw anything like it. I can't understand it though. I never write anything but checks myself. " "Bob!" said Mrs. Ray. "You wrote the most wonderful letters to me before we were married. I still have them, a big bundle of them. Every time I clean house I read them over and cry." "Cry, eh?" said Mr. Ray, grinning. "In spite of what your mother says, Betsy, if you have any talent for writing, it comes from family. Her brother Keith was mighty talented, and maybe you are too. Maybe you're going to be a writer." Betsy was silent, agreeably abashed. "But if you're going to be a writer," he went on, "you've got to read. Good books. Great books. The classics. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
“ Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 129
“ Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again. ”
- Maud Hart Lovelace- Copy
- 1.4K
- 1