Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,' she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. 'What nice dreams they must have!
I am well in body although considerably rumpled up in spirit, thank you, ma'am,' said Anne gravely. Then aside to Marilla in an audible whisper, 'There wasn't anything startling in that, was there, Ma...
I'm really a very happy, contented little person in spite of my broken heart.
Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible says so — but, Anne, it won't be what I've been used to.
Do you know, Mrs. Allan, I'm thankful for friendship. It beautifies life so much. True friendship is a very helpful thing indeed, said Mrs. Allan, and we should have a very high ideal of it , and neve...
We always hate people who surprise our secrets…
That's the worst of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them.
I'm afraid of those cows,' protested poor Dora, seeing a prospect of escape.'The very idea of your being scared of those cows,' scoffed Davy. 'Why, they're both younger than you.
I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,' said Priscilla.'Then your soul is a golden narcissus,' said Anne, 'and Diana's is like a red, red rose. Jane's is an apple blossom, pink and wholes...
You can't have many exclamation points left,' thought Anne, 'but no doubt the supply of italics is inexhaustible.
We... Charlotta the Fourth and I... live in defiance of every known law of diet. ~ Miss Lavendar, chap 27
Well now, I'd rather have you than a dozen boys, Anne,' said Matthew patting her hand. 'Just mind you that — rather than a dozen boys. Well now, I guess it wasn't a boy that took the Avery scholarship...
And every day in heaven will be more beautiful than the one before it Davy, assured Anne.
Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are, and be thankful…
Oh, Marilla, I thought I was happy before. Now I know that I just dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness. This is the reality.
The dark hills, with the darker spruces marching over them, looked grim on early falling nights, but Ingleside bloomed with firelight and laughter, though the winds come in from the Atlantic singing o...
It's the worst kind of cruelty — the thoughtless kind. You can't cope with it.
I'm so thankful for friendship. It beautifies life so much.
Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?
It makes me very sad at times to think about her. But really, Marilla, one can't stay sad very long in such an interesting world, can one?
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