Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?
Truly, the happiness certain things give us is never to be measured by their worldly importance.
Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it yet.
There was another occupant of the living-room, curled up on a couch, who must not be overlooked, since he was a creature of marked individuality, and, moreover, had the distinction of being the only l...
There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is there? And it's so hard to keep from loving things, isn't it?
There is no need of my either forgetting or remembering it, said Rosemary, a little wearily. YOU forget that I'm an old maid, Ellen. It is only your sisterly delusion that I am still young and bloomin...
There is a book of Revelation in every one's life, as there is in the Bible.
The world is always young again for just a few moments at the dawn.
The little birds sang as if it were The one day of summer in all the year.
The kind of a wife I’d like to Have. ‘She must have good manners and get my meals on time and do what I tell her and always be very polite to me. She must be fifteen yers old. She must be good to the...
The day never goes by for men and nations to make asses of themselves and take to the fists.
The Woman had told her that Tomorrow never comes, but Elizabeth knows better. It will come sometime. Some beautiful morning she will just wake up and find it is Tomorrow. Not Today but Tomorrow. And t...
That water looks as if it was smiling at me
Susan Baker and the Anne Shirley of other days saw her coming, as they sat on the big veranda at Ingleside, enjoying the charm of the cat's light, the sweetness of sleepy robins whistling among the tw...
Silence and twilight fell over the garden. Far away the sea was lapping gently and monotonously on the bar. The wind of evening in the poplars sounded like some sad, weird old rune-some broken dream o...
She was an expert in dealing with situations without precedent.
She looks exactly like a—like a gimlet. Marilla smothered a smile under the conviction that Anne must be reproved for such a speech. A little girl like you should be ashamed of talking so about a lady...
She brushed the old years and habits and inhibitions away from her like dead leaves. She would be littered with them.
Oh, Mr. Cuthbert, she whispered, that place we came through--that white place--what was it?Well now, you must mean the Avenue, said Matthew after a few moments' profound reflection. It is a kind of pr...
Oh, Miss Shirley, can you smell the apple-blossom fragrance? Having a nose, Anne could.