Laurie, You're An Angel! How Shall I

I Have Nothing To Give But My Heart So Full And These Empty Hands." "they're Not Empty Now.

November Is The Most Disagreeable Month In The Whole Year," Said Margaret, Standing At The Window One Dull Afternoon, Looking Out At The Frostbitten Garden. "that's The Reason I Was Born In It," Observed Jo Pensively, Quite Unconscious Of The Blot On Her Nose.

It Was Fortunate That Tea Was At Hand, To Produce A Lull And Provide Refreshment,— For They Would Have Been Hoarse And Faint If They Had Gone On Much Longer.

…on Some Occasions, Women, Like Dreams, Go By Contraries.

I For One Don't Want To Be Ranked Among Idiots, Felons, And Minors Any Longer, For I Am None Of Them.