He never had any sense of decorum … always kissing his wife in the most unsuitable places!' (Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the ne...
He began to speak dreamily, partly because he wanted to thrill his companions a little, partly because something apart from him seemed to be speaking through his lips. The Piper is coming nearer, he s...
Freedom!’ Mrs. Lynde sniffed. ‘Freedom! Don’t talk like a Yankee, Anne.
For spring is just around the corner and I have forgotten everything but gladness.
Flowers spring to blossom where she walksThe careful ways of duty,Our hard, stiff lines of life with her
Felicity, if I die from the effects of eating sawdust pudding, flavoured with needles, you'll be sorry you ever said such a thing to your poor old uncle, said Uncle Roger reproachfully.
Fairyland is the loveliest word because it means everything the human heart desires.
Every one has some fault but also some virtue … something that distinguishes it from all the others … gives it a personality. I
Every morn is a fresh beginning, Every morn is the world made new,
Even Billy Andrews’ boy is going—and Jane’s only son—and Diana’s little Jack, said Mrs. Blythe. Priscilla’s son has gone from Japan and Stella’s from Vancouver—and both the Rev. Jo’s boys. Philippa wr...
Dr. dear, said Susan. I never could abide such a man in the pulpit every Sunday. Then Mr. Rogers came and he was like a chip in porridge—neither harm nor good, resumed Miss Cornelia. But if he had pre...
Don't you know ANY good husbands, Miss Bryant? Oh, yes, lots of them—over yonder, said Miss Cornelia, waving her hand through the open window towards the little graveyard of the church across the harb...
Don't you feel as if you just loved the world on a morning like this?
Don't give up all your romance, Anne, he whispered shyly, a little of it is a good thing—not too much, of course—but keep a little of it, Anne, keep a little of it.
Does the Power that runs the universe think us of more importance than we think ants?You forget that an infinite Power must be infinitely little as well as infinitely great. We are neither, therefore...
Do you never imagine things different from what they really are? asked Anne wide-eyed.No.Oh! Anne drew a long breath. Oh, Miss--Marilla, how much you miss!
Do you know what? I think the evening star is a lighthouse on the land where the fairies dwell.
Cornelia's
Charitable Impulse XXV. Another Scandal and Another Explanation XXVI. Miss Cornelia Gets a New Point of View XXVII. A Sacred Concert XXVIII. A Fast Day XXIX. A Weird Tale
Cavendish was Avonlea to a certain extent. Lover's Lane was a very beautiful lane through the woods on a neighbour's farm. It was a beloved haunt of mine from my earliest days. The Shore Road has a re...