“She tried to act as though it were nothing to go to the library alone. But her happiness betrayed her. Her smile could not be restrained, and it spread from her tightly pressed mouth, to her round cheeks, almost to the hair ribbons tied in perky bows over her ears.”

“Betsy liked to talk. Her father always said she got it from her mother, and her mother always said she got it from her father. But whomever she got it from she was certainly a talker.”

“Sam!” cried Carney. “I’m afraid I lost the flashlight, but…” That was all she said for Sam took her in his arms. Holding her tightly he kissed her muddy face, not once but several times.”

“Betsy returned to her chair, took off her coat and hat, opened her book and forgot the world again.”

“Carney was hatless and gloveless, wearing her pink linen. Sam looked at her more than once.“its just because he likes pink,” she told herself.”

“Betsy liked to read her stories aloud and she read them like an actress. She made her voice low and thrillingly deep. She made it shake with emotion. She laughed mockingly and sobbed wildly when the occasion required.”

“Thoughts are such fleet magic things. Betsy's thoughts swept a wide arc while Uncle Keith read her poem aloud. She thought of Julia learning to sing with Mrs. Poppy. She thought of Tib learning to dance. She thought of herself and Tacy and Tib going into their 'teens. She even thought of Tom and Herbert and of how, by and by, they would be carrying her books and Tacy's and Tib's up the hill from high school.”