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I’ll join the dance of fireflies in Lover’s Lane

I’m saying goodbye tonight to the old Storm King, with sunset on its brow, and my little winding valley full of dusk

I’ll never be quite so chummy with the winds again as I’ve been here

One thing is certain—she will have no commonplace existence

Let’s be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let’s dance to meet life and all it can bring to us.

It was as if she had set lighted candles in all the windows of her house of life

They went through Lover’s Lane, full of lovely tree shadows, and across fields were little fir trees fringe the fences, and through woods that were full of secrets they seemed always on the point of whispering to you but never did, and through open glades that were like pools of silver

The White Way of Delight had little festoons of stars tangled in the trees

Dew-wet, spicy ferns ankle-deep along the brook and lazy, dappling shadows in Lover’s Lane and wild strawberries in Mr. Bell’s pasture and the dark, loveliness of firs in the Haunted Wood.
My very soul has wings.

The big, rambling house was built among spruces and on a long point with the bay on both sides, and a stretch of golden–breasted dunes beyond that knew all there was to be known about winds