And that is best of all, Ceddie, – it is better than everything else, that the world should be a little better because a man has lived – even ever so little better, dearest.
Dearest says that is the best kind of goodness; not to think about yourself, but to think about other people.
It was a way of hers always to want to spring into any fray in which someone was made uncomfortable or unhappy.
No one will remember you.
She had never been taught to ask permission to do things, and she knew nothing at all about authority, so she would not have thought it necessary to ask Mrs. Medlock if she might walk about the house, even if she had seen her.
It’s just an accident that I am not you, and you are not me!
Suddenly it seemed as if he might a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again. He seemed too good to be true.
Non, monsieur. Je n’ai pas le canif de mon oncle.‘” That.
The fact was that the fresh wind from the moor had begun to blow the cobwebs out of her young brain and to waken her up a little.
There was a clean fresh scent of heather and grass and leaves about him, almost as if he were made of them.
Lo considero un amigo, a veces sucede que se puede estimar a una persona aunque nunca se haya hablado con ella. Se las observa y se piensa en ellas, y se comparten sus preocupaciones.
People who are fond of books know the feeling of irritation which sweeps over them at such a moment.
I’ve seen the spring now and I’m going to see the summer. I’m going to see everything grow here. I’m going to grow here myself.” “That.
If there was time only for a few words, they were always friendly, merry words that put heart into one; and if there was time for more, then there was an installment of a story to be told, or some other thing one remembered afterward and sometimes lay awake in one’s bed in the attic to think over.
The afternoon was dragging towards its mellow hour. The sun was deepening the gold of its lances, the bees were going home and the birds were flying past less often.
Sara went to it and sat down. She was a queer child, as I have said before, and quite unlike other children. She seldom cried. She did not cry now. She laid her doll, Emily, across her knees, and put her face down upon her, and her arms around her, and sat there, her little black head resting on the black crape, not saying one word, not making one sound.
And, as to her papa, there is nothing so grand in being an Indian officer.
It really was a very strange feeling she had about Emily. It arose from her being so desolate. She did not like to own to herself that her only friend, her only companion, could feel and hear nothing. She wanted to believe, or to pretend to believe, that Emily understood and sympathized with her, that she heard her even though she did not speak in answer.
Medlock said I was to carry tha’ breakfast an’ tea an’ dinner into th’ room next to this. It’s been made into a nursery for thee. I’ll help thee on with thy clothes if tha’ll get out o’ bed. If th’ buttons are at th’ back tha’ cannot button them up tha’self.” When Mary at last decided to get up, the clothes Martha took from the wardrobe were not the ones she had worn when she arrived the night before.
I am going to,” answered.