Ah, well, let's not borrow trouble; the rate of interest is too high.
Again Anne shivered. How terrible … sitting opposite each other at table … lying down beside each other at night … going to church with their babies to be christened … and hating each other through it...
After all, it is fairy tales the world wants. Real life is all the real life we want. Give us something better in books.
Adam. He ought to have been in the pot long ago—he'll be as tough as sole leather. But I wouldn't like to be in Martha's shoes. Faith's just white with rage; Una, you'd better go after her and try to...
A — a what kind of friend? A bosom friend — an intimate friend, you know — a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I’ve dreamed of meeting her all my life. I
A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turn had bequeathed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashioned oval, containing a braid of her mother's hair, surrounded by a border of very fine amethy...
A magic casement opening on the foamOf perilous seas in fairy lands forlorn,
A favor is never so long-lived as a grudge.
1906 Anne of Green Gables is rejected by four publishers. Montgomery puts the manuscript away in a hatbox.
The woods, when they give at all, give unstintedly, and hold nothing back from their true worshippers. We must go to them lovingly, humbly, patiently, watchfully, and we shall learn what poignant love...
It doesn't hurt to love if you do not hope to be loved in return.I've never hoped to be loved in return--but it hurts damnably, said Roger.
People who don't like cats, said Valancy, attacking her dessert with a relish, always seem to think that there is some peculiar virtue in not liking them.
…I'm afraid Katherine likes me so much now that she can't always like me as much…
Życie nie może zatrzymać się w biegu pomimo dziejących się na jego drodze tragedii.
Your
You know what Lowell says, 'Not failure but low aim is crime.' We must have ideals and try to live up to them, even if we never quite succeed. Life would be a sorry business without them. With
Wounded prisoners. I wish I could hope, Miss Oliver—it would help, I suppose. But hope seems dead in me. I can't hope without some reason for it—and there is no reason. When Miss Oliver had gone to he...
World; but that was as yet far in the future; and the mother, whose first-born son he was, was wont to look on her boys and thank God that the brave days of old, which Jem longed for, were gone for ev...
When the darkness is close to us it is a friend. But when we sorter push it away from us—divorce ourselves from it, so to speak, with lantern light—it becomes an enemy.
When common sense has no power over me. Common nonsense takes possession of my soul.