“Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about—gettin' a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!" Pollyanna clapped her hands. "There is—there is," she crowed. "But I couldn't see it, either, Nancy, at first," she added,… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“Miss Polly actually stamped her foot in irritation. "There you go like the rest," she shouted. "What game?" At last Nancy told her all about the story of how the crutches arrived instead of a doll, and how Pollyanna's father… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“In fact, I know that a 'nice live little boy' would be far better than - my skeleton in the closet; only - we… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“I've got something besides the weather to think of. I don't know whether the sun shines or not." Pollyanna beamed joyously. "No, sir; I… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“Aunt Polly is all stirred up over it. You see, she wants Uncle Tom to have what he wants, only she wants him to… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“In his imagination he was far away in a little Western town with a missionary minister who was poor, sick, worried, and almost alone… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“...she had been too busy wishing things were different to find much time to enjoy things as they were.” — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“Then you--weren't lovers?" Pollyanna's voice was tragic with dismay. "Never!" "And it isn't all coming out like a book? . . . Oh dear!… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“...only- we aren't always willing to make the exchange. We are apt to still cling to- our skeletons.” — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“Well, goodness me! I can't see anythin' ter be glad about—gettin' a pair of crutches when you wanted a doll!" Pollyanna clapped her hands.… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so bent up and crooked; an'what do ye s'pose the little thing said? ... She said… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“Miss Polly actually stamped her foot in irritation. "There you go like the rest," she shouted. "What game?" At last Nancy told her all… — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
“I tell you, troubles are poor things to hug. They've got to many pickers.” — Eleanor H. Porter Copy Share Image
