Sharone Powell

“Her genius, as has before been mentioned, is a genius for living, for being vital. Many people merely exist, are kept alive by others, or continue to vegetate because the persistence action of normal function will allow of their doing no less. Bettina Vanderpoel had lived vividly and in the midst of a self-created atmosphere of action from her first hour. It was not possible for her to be one of the horde of mere spectators where soever she moved there was some occult stirring of the mental and even physical air. Her pulses beat too strongly, her blood ran too fast to allow of inaction of mind of body.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Shuttle

“She was named Juliet, after his wife, the bishop thought, but that was not what Julia meant at all. She was far too modest to think of calling her child after herself. Juliet, for her, was the name of that young girl of Verona whose tragic love has everywhere helped make youth and sorrow better friends.”
― Robert Nathan, The Bishop's Wife

“Under the whole sky there was nothing but the white land, the snow blowing, and the wind and the cold.

He was not afraid. He knew where the town was and as long as the sun was in the sky or the moon or the stars he could not be lost. But he had a feeling colder than the wind. He felt that he was the only life on the cold earth under the cold sky; he and his horse alone in an enormous coldness.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter

“For all that little financial lesson in the Montreal hotel, Emily was still confused by British currency. She’d grown highly incensed not only with it but with me because she couldn’t understand it. It was the only thing I ever heard her admit to not understanding. It was in vain that I tried to show her the difference between a half crown and a two-shilling piece. She refused to admit they were anything but two versions of fifty cents, and persisted in being so stubbornly obtuse about it that I finally told her that if she just bring herself to read what was written on them, she’d know. This didn’t work out so well either because she’d keep taxi drivers waiting interminably while she’d scan the reading matter of each and every coin, turning it round and round, sometimes breathing on it and rubbing it clear. When I suggested that people might think her awfully queer, she said, not at all, they’d merely mistake her for a coin collector.
I tried explaining to her that one florin meant two shillings but that only made her madder. The day we received a bill made out in guineas and I told her that there was no such thing as a guinea, it was a pound and one shilling, only the swanker shops charged you in guineas, and you paid in pound and shillings, but you called it guineas, although as I had said there really was no such thing, she slapped me.”
― Cornelia Otis Skinner, Our Hearts Were Young and Gay: An Unforgettable Comic Chronicle of Innocents Abroad in the 1920s