Tomorrow is always a fresh day with no mistakes in it
Valancy herself had never quite relinquished a certain pitiful, shamed, little hope that Romance would come her way yet—never, until this wet, horrible morning, when she wakened to the fact that she w...
Was not -- should not -- a career be something splendid, wonderful, spectacular at the very least, something varied and exciting? Could my long, uphill struggle, through many quiet, uneventful years,...
We both belong to the race that knows Joseph, as Cornelia Bryant would say. The race that knows Joseph? puzzled Anne. Yes. Cornelia divides all the folks in the world into two kinds — the race that kn...
Well, it was awful said, said Felicity, wiping her eyes. But it was long ago and we can't do any good by crying over it now. Let us go and get something to eat. I made some nice little rhubarb tarts t...
Well, that was life. Gladness and pain...hope and fear...and change. Always change! You could not help it. You had to let the old go and take the new to your heart...learn to love it and then let it g...
Well, we could have a jolly funeral, you know, said Dan. We looked at him in such horror that Dan hastened to apologize.
When Marilla took Anne up to bed that night she said stiffly: Now, Anne, I noticed last night that you threw your clothes all about the floor when you took them off. That is a very untidy habit, and I...
When one great passion seizes possession of the soul all other feelings are crowded aside.
When people ask me that absurd question Do you like children? I always feel like retorting - and sometimes do, if I think the questioner has brains enough to understand the retort - Why don't you ask...
Yesterday she had been all her own. Now she was this man's.
You’ll get so tired of Blair Water — you’ll know all the people in it — what they are and can be — it’ll be like reading a book for the twentieth time.
Before them: the girls whose hearts were to be wrung were yet fair little maidens a-star with hopes and dreams.
Child to get a good home. I was a homeless
Dress—because when you are imagining you might as well imagine something worth while—and
Eccentric.
Everything is foreordained and it was bound to happen anyway. But even so, it’s nice to think one was an instrument used by predestination.
Handmaiden of the Blythe family at Ingleside, never lost an opportunity of calling her Mrs. Marshall Elliott, with the most killing and pointed emphasis, as if
Odds?
Of unquenchable sparkle and dream as ever. Behind her, in the hammock, Rilla Blythe was curled up, a fat, roly-poly little creature of
Showing 761 to 780 of 1519 results