There was an ocean above us, held in by a thin sac that might rupture and let down a flood at any second.

You will look young when you feel young, but to simply feel that you are young will not always cause you to feel young. The real feeling of youth comes when we actually think in the consciousness of youth and give the realization of the now to every thought.

The history of your happiness is the history of your feeling connected.

True respect comes when we fend for ourselves without the aid of anyone, and when we owned something and say, 'this is my own'! Not necessarily as a way of boasting of our abundance and grace, but having a feeling that we can use it without obstruction, or being asked to return the favor.

Where are you going this hot day, Mis_ DeJong?__elina sat up very straight. __o Bagdad, Mrs. Pool.___o____here__ that? What for?___o sell my jewels, Mrs. Pool. And to see Aladdin, and Harun-al-Rashid and Ali Baba. And the Forty Thieves.__rs. Pool had left her rocker and had come down the steps. The wagon creaked on past her gate. She took a step or two down the path, and called after them. __ never heard of it. Bag____ow do you get there?__ver her shoulder Selina called out from the wagon seat. __ou just go until you come to a closed door. And you say __pen Sesame!_ and there you are.__ewilderment shadowed Mrs. Pool__ placid face. As the wagon lurched on down the road it was Selina who was smiling and Mrs. Pool who was serious.The boy, round eyed, was looking up at his mother. __hat__ out of Arabian Nights, what you said. Why did you say that?_ Suddenly excitement tinged his voice. __hat__ out of the book. Isn__ it? Isn__ it! We__e not really ____he was a little contrite, but not very. __ell, not really, perhaps. But __ost any place is Bagdad if you don__ know what will happen in it. And this is an adventure, isn__ it, that we__e going on? People in disguise in the Haymarket. Caliphs, and princes, and slaves, and thieves, and good fairies, and witches.___n the Haymarket! That Pop went to all the time! That is just dumb talk.

[She had] a gay adventuresome spirit that was never to die, though it led her into curious places and she often found, at the end, only a trackless waste from which she had to retrace her steps painfully. But always, to her, red and green cabbages were to be jade and burgundy, chrysoprase and porphyry. Life has no weapons against a woman like that.