Knitting is something you can do, even when your heart is going like a trip-hammer and the pit of your stomach feels all gone and your thoughts are catawampus. Then when I see the headlines, be they g...
Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.
Jane was smiling and happy; examinations were over and she was comfortably sure she had made a pass at least; further considerations troubled Jane not at all; she had no soaring ambitions and conseque...
I’ve done my best and I begin to understand what is meant by the ‘joy of the strife.’ Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.
It’s so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn’t it?
It's bad enough to feel insignificant, but it's unbearable to have it grained into your soul that you will never, can never, be anything but insignificant…
It was less humiliating to admit crying because of your feet than because - because somebody had been amusing himself with you and your friends had forgotten you, and other people patronised you.
Isn't it terrible the way some unworthy folks are loved, while others that deserve it far more, you'd think, never get much affection?
Is there laughter in your face yet, Rilla? I hope so. The world will need laughter and courage more than ever in the years that will come next. I don't want to preach—this isn't any time for it.
If a kiss could be seen it would look like a violet.
I've no doubt, enjoying himself same as ever. Just like a man.
I suppose it was a romantic was to perish... for a mouse
I climbed the hill of firs and looked down over the fields of mist and silver in the moonlight. The shadows of the ferns and sweet wild grasses along the edge of the woods were like a dance of sprites...
I cannot remember the time when I was not writing, or when I did not mean to be a writer...I was an indefatigable scribbler
I am of one mind with the Irishman who said you could get used to anything, even to being hanged!
I am grateful that my childhood was spent in a spot where there were many trees, trees of personality, planted and tended by hands long dead, bound up with everything of joy or sorrow that visited our...
Grief is ever proud.
God is a spirit, infinite, eternal and unchangeable, in His being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth,
Gilbert would never have dreamed of writing a sonnet to her eyebrows. But then, Gilbert could see a joke. She had once told Roy a funny story—and he had not seen the point of it. She recalled the chum...
Gilbert put his arm about them. 'Oh, you mothers!' he said. 'You mothers! God knew what He was about when He made you.