A child without an acquaintance of some kind with a classic of literature ... suffers from that impoverishment for the rest of his life. No later intimacy is like that of the first.
None of us ever escape the first few years of our lives. They make a mould into which we are cast, and though it may be broken, and we turned loose, … - Lizette Woodworth Reese
None of us ever escape the first few years of our lives. They make a mould into which we are cast, and though it may be broken, and we turned loose, …
- Lizette Woodworth Reese
To hear that your neighbor was worse off than yourself was not an altogether unpleasant experience. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
To hear that your neighbor was worse off than yourself was not an altogether unpleasant experience.
The old faiths light their candles all about, but burly Truth comes by and puts them out. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
The old faiths light their candles all about, but burly Truth comes by and puts them out.
The sun pours out like wine. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
The sun pours out like wine.
I wonder at the idleness of tears. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
I wonder at the idleness of tears.
A child without an acquaintance of some kind with a classic of literature ... suffers from that impoverishment for the rest of his life. No later int… - Lizette Woodworth Reese
A child without an acquaintance of some kind with a classic of literature ... suffers from that impoverishment for the rest of his life. No later int…
Glad that I live am I; That the sky is blue; Glad for the country lanes, And the fall of dew. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
Glad that I live am I; That the sky is blue; Glad for the country lanes, And the fall of dew.
For poetry, more than any other art, except music, has a compelling hold upon the spiritual side of life. - Lizette Woodworth Reese
For poetry, more than any other art, except music, has a compelling hold upon the spiritual side of life.
Thrice blessed are they whose early years are spent in some countryside. The flowering and withering of the seasons, and every exquisite sound and si… - Lizette Woodworth Reese
Thrice blessed are they whose early years are spent in some countryside. The flowering and withering of the seasons, and every exquisite sound and si…
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