Bears need people. People need bears.
Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks - expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs - that can undermine any tale you're telling.
Thank you for being interested. Doesn't sound much but it meant just about everything.
From serenity comes gentleness, comes lasting strength.
Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.
It's hard to visualize the toys you had fifty years ago - all save bear. He's as clear as if he were sitting on the desk in front of you...of course...he probably is.
A dog wakens your heart to joy and companionship.
The baby rises to its feet, takes a step, is overcome with triumph and joy - and falls flat on its face. It is a pattern for all that is to come! But learn from the bewildered baby. Lurch to your feet again. You'll make the sofa in the end.
Friendship is not diminished by distance or time, by imprisonment or war, by suffering or silence. It is in these things that it roots most deeply.
Integrity rings like fine glass. True, clear, and reassuring.
The trouble with sharing one's bed with cats is that they'd rather sleep on you than beside you.
Sisters never quite forgive each other for what happened when they were five.
A teddy bear does not depend upon mechanics to give him the semblance of life. He is loved - and therefore he lives.
Horses lend us the wings we lack.
Give a pup a home and a little love and he will give you his heart forever.
A younger sister is someone to use as a guinea-pig in trying sledges and experimental go-carts. Someone to send on messages to Mum. But someone who needs you - who comes to you with bumped heads, grazed knees, tales of persecution. Someone who trusts you to defend her. Someone who thinks you know the answers to almost everything.
Be wary of the horse with a sense of humor.
The courage of very ordinary people is all that stands between us and the dark.
For every person who has ever lived there has come, at last, a spring he will never see. Glory then in the springs that are yours.
We expect too much at Christmas. It's got to be magical. It's got to go right. Feasting. Fun. The perfect present. All that anticipation. Take it easy. Love's the thing. The rest is tinsel.
You never realize how much your mother loves you till you explore the attic - and find every letter you ever sent her, every finger painting, clay pot, bead necklace, Easter chicken, cardboard Santa Claus, paperlace Mother's Day card and school report since day one.
A bag of apples, a pot of homemade jam, a scribbled note, a bunch of golden flowers, a coloured pebble, a box of seedlings, an empty scent bottle for the children. . . . Who needs diamonds and van-delivered bouquets?
The child who ran weeping to you with a cut finger is now brought home, smiling gamely, with a broken collarbone and incredible contusions- 'it wasn't Jezebels fault, Dad.'
However time or circumstances may come between mother and her child, their lives are interwoven forever.
Bears being sent through the mail should never be squashed up to make them fit. It gives them indigestion.
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