Oh, but there's such a difference between saying a thing yourself and hearing other people say it,' wailed Anne. 'You may know a thing is so, but you can't help hoping other people don't quite think i...
Mrs. Rachel felt that she had received a severe mental jolt. She thought in exclamation points. A boy! Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert of all people adopting a boy! From an orphan asylum! Well, the world...
Marilla, what if I fail!''You'll hardly fail completely in one day and there's plenty more days coming,' said Marilla.
Living so that you beautify your name, even if it wasn't beautiful to begin with … making it stand in people's thoughts for something so lovely and pleasant that they never think of it by itself.
It's dreadful what little things lead people to misunderstand each other.
It wouldn’t do to have all our dreams fulfilled. We would be as good as dead if we had nothing left to dream about. - Anne Shirley
It was really dreadful to be so different from other people…and yet rather wonderful, too, as if you were a being strayed from another star.
I have never liked cats, said Mrs. Gardner remotely. I love them, said Dorothy. They are so nice and selfish. Dogs are TOO good and unselfish. They make me feel uncomfortable. But cats are gloriously...
I can always get through to-day very nicely. It's to-morrow I can't live through
But if you call me Anne, please call me Anne with an 'e'.
But Gilbert's visits were not what they once were. Anne almost dreaded them. It was very disconcerting to look up in the midst of a sudden silence and find Gilbert's hazel eyes fixed upon her with a q...
Bohemian—a respectable sort of tramp.
As they dashed into the kitchen the light seemed to vanish, as if blown out by some mighty breath; the awful cloud rolled over the sun and a darkness as of late twilight fell across the world.
We'll just sit here," said Barney, "and if we think of anything worth while saying we'll say it. Otherwise, not. Don't imagine you're bound to talk to me.""John Foster says," quoted Valancy, "'If you...
Oh, this is the most TRAGICAL thing that ever happened to me!
You have the itch for writing born in you. It's quite incurable. What are you going to do with it?
Тело растет медленно и постоянно, но душа растет стремительно и скачками.
The right kind of a clock. One that did not hurry the hours away but ticked them off deliberately.
Now another illusion has been stripped from my eyes and I feel as if there wasn't such a thing as real true friendship in the world.
Clouds of the golden west between its softly dark shores. The sea moaned eerily on the sand-bar, sorrowful even in spring, ...