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只要你對它們吹聲口哨，它們就能開花。

“要是你是只米瑟原上的畫眉鳥，領我去看你的窩，你覺得我會告訴別人嗎？我是不會的。”他說，“你就和畫眉鳥一樣安全。”

讓一個悲傷或惡意的念頭進入你的心裏，和讓一個猩紅熱病菌進入你的身體一樣危險。假如它進入你以後你讓它留下來，只要你活著，你也許永遠不能痊癒。

哪裡你種下一株玫瑰，我的孩子

刺蓟草就不能生長。

Mary's lips pinched themselves together. She was no more used to considering other people than Colin was and she saw no reason why an ill-tempered boy should interfere with the thing she liked best. She knew nothing about the pitifulness of people who had been ill and nervous and who did not know that they could control their tempers and need not make other people ill and nervous, too. When she had had a headache in India she had done her best to see that everybody else also had a headache or something quite as bad. And she felt she was quite right; but of course now she felt that Colin was quite wrong.

“I won't let that boy come here if you go and stay with him instead of coming to talk to me,” he said.

“I won't let that boy come here if you go and stay with him instead of coming to talk to me,” he said.

Mary flew into a fine passion. She just grew sour and obstinate and did not care what happened. “If you send Dickon away, I’ll never come into this room again!” she retorted.

“You’ll have to if I want you,” said Colin.

“I won’t!” said Mary.

“I’ll make you,” said Colin. “They shall drag you in.”

“Shall they, Mr. Rajah!” said Mary fiercely. “They may drag me in, but they can’t make me talk when they get me here. I’ll sit and clench my teeth and never tell you one thing. I won’t even look at you. I’ll stare at the floor!”

They were a nice agreeable pair as they glared at each other. “You are a selfish thing!” cried Colin.

“What are you?” said Mary. “Selfish people always say that. You’re mo...

活在人世，其中一件奇怪的事情就是，只有在刹那间，你才坚信你能活到永远。你偶尔会明白这点，当你在宁静的破晓时分起床，独自一人到户外站着，将头极力往后仰，看着灰蒙蒙的天空逐渐变红、目睹着朝霞神奇般地变幻，一直到东方的太阳冉冉升起，简直让人无法呼吸，你的心平静下来，为日出那神奇的、永恒的景象——这一幕每天早上都会出现，延续了几千万甚至几亿年。有时候，当你独自一人站在洒满余晖的树林里，神奇的金色夕阳恬静地斜射过树叉，好像轻声地倾述着什么，一遍接着一遍，不管你怎么努力都听不清楚；有的时候，在无边无际的湛蓝的夜空中，满天繁星在等待着、期盼着，使人坚信自己会永远活下去；有时远方响起的一阵奏乐声，会使这样的感觉越发真实，还有的时候，则是一个人的目光，会使人有一种坚定不移的信念。

"When they have no leaves and look gray and brown and dry, how can you tell whether they are dead or alive?" inquired Mary.

"Wait till th' spring gets at 'em - wait till th' sun shines on th' rain and th' rain falls on th' sunshine an' then that'll find out."

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