Grace Livingston Hill:Marcia Schuyler
- Livro de bolso 2013, ISBN: 9781484872154
Edição encadernada
Paperback. New. Paperback. What would it be like to walk into your living room and see acomplete stranger who says shes your mother Dizzy hasnt seen Storm since she walked out on her and… mais…
Paperback. New. Paperback. What would it be like to walk into your living room and see acomplete stranger who says shes your mother Dizzy hasnt seen Storm since she walked out on her and her dad eight years ago, but here she is, a hippie-crunchy earth mother, come to celebrate Dizzys twelfth birthday and to convince Dizzys dad to let her come away for the summer. A dream is coming true right before Dizzys eyes and as the memories start flooding back, Dizzy knows she wants to spend as much time with her mum as she can. So the two steal off before dawn into the wild world of communes, hippies, out-door festivals, dirty fingernails and fun! As the weeks pass, Dizzy starts to feel things shes never felt before. She meets Finn, who gives her her first kiss-and Mouse, whos like the little brother she never had. This life is so different from the one back at home. Which life is the right one for Dizzy Not since Sharon Creech has such a warm, fresh, wonderful voice emerged for this age group. Viking is proud to welcome the talented voice of Cathy Cassidy. This item ships from multiple locations. Your book may arrive from Roseburg,OR, La Vergne,TN, Momence,IL, Commerce,GA., Paperback. New. Paperback. Young Adult Edition with Readers Guide Sometimes you know in your heart you love someone, but you have to go away before your head can figure it out. To trace the path of her missing mother, Sal embarks on a journey from Ohio to Idaho with her grandparents. On the road, Sal tells the strange and exciting story of her friend Phoebe. As the miles pass, Phoebes tale becomes more and more outrageous, while Sals own story begins to emerge. In unraveling Phoebes mystery, Sal comes ever closer to finding out the truth behind her own bittersweet journey. What will she find at the end of the road This item ships from multiple locations. Your book may arrive from Roseburg,OR, La Vergne,TN, Momence,IL, Commerce,GA., Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1996. 297 pages. Book and Jacket appear to have hardly been read and are both in As new condition throughout. We Crouched Before The Fire, Our Wet Clothes Sterung Outaround Us To Dry. At Clemenza's Insistance, We Passed The Time Telling Stories: In Categories Defined By Her As Life And Love, Events Both Familiar And Frightening, Times And Places Far Away.. First Edition. Hard Cover. As New/As New., Angus and Robertson, 1996, This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1892 edition. Excerpt: ... Letter CLXI. ROXANA TO USBEK, AT PARIS. Yes, I have deceived you; I have led away your eunuchs: I have made sport of your jealousy; and I have known how to turn your frightful seraglio into a place of pleasure and delight I am at the point of death; the poison courses through my veins: for what should I do here, since the only man who bound me to life is no more? I die; but my spirit shall not pass unaccompanied: I have despatched before me those sacrilegious gaolers who spilt the sweetest blood in the world. How could you think that I was such a weakling as to imagine there was nothing for me in the world but to worship your caprices; that while you indulged all your desires, you should have the right to thwart me in all mine? No: I have lived in slavery, and yet always retained my freedom: I have remodelled your laws upon those of nature; and my mind has always maintained its independence. You ought to thank me, then, for the sacrifice I made you; for having sunk so low as to seem to be yours; for having, like a coward, hidden in my heart what I ought to have published to all the earth; finally, for having profaned virtue, by permitting my submission to your humours to be called by that name. You were amazed never to find in me the transports of love: had you known me better you would have found all the violence of hate. For a long time you have had the satisfaction of believing that you had conquered a heart like mine: now we are both delighted: you thought me deceived, and I have deceived you. Doubtless such a letter as this you little expected to receive. Can it be possible that after having overwhelmed you with affliction I shall still force you to admire my courage? But all is ended now; the poison destroys me, my strength leaves... Weight:0.23 lbs, TheClassics.us, 9/12/2013 0:00:00, The sun was already up and the grass blades were twinkling with sparkles of dew, as Marcia stepped from the kitchen door. She wore a chocolate calico with little sprigs of red and white scattered over it, her hair was in smooth brown braids down her back, and there was a flush on her round cheeks that might have been but the reflection of the rosy light in the East. Her face was as untroubled as the summer morning, in its freshness, and her eyes as dreamy as the soft clouds that hovered upon the horizon uncertain where they were to be sent for the day. Marcia walked lightly through the grass, and the way behind her sparkled again like that of the girl in the fairy-tale who left jewels wherever she passed. A rail fence stopped her, which she mounted as though it had been a steed to carry her onward, and sat a moment looking at the beauty of the morning, her eyes taking on that far-away look that annoyed her stepmother when she wanted her to hurry with the dishes, or finish a long seam before it was time to get supper. She loitered but a moment, for her mind was full of business, and she wished to accomplish much before the day was done. Swinging easily down to the other side of the fence she moved on through the meadow, over another fence, and another meadow, skirting the edge of a cool little strip of woods which lured her with its green mysterious shadows, its whispering leaves, and twittering birds. One wistful glance she gave into the sweet silence, seeing a clump of maiden-hair ferns rippling their feathery locks in the breeze. Then resolutely turning away she sped on to the slope of Blackberry Hill. It was not a long climb to where the blackberries grew, and she was soon at work, the great luscious berries dropping into her pail almost with a touch. But while she worked the vision of the hills, the sheep meadow below, the river winding between the neighboring farms, melted away, and she did not even see the ripe fruit before her, because she was planning the new frock she was to buy with these berries she had come to pick. Weight:0.42 lbs, CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 5/3/2013 0:00:00<