You make me believe in fairies, whether I will or no,” he told her, “and that means youth. As long as you believe in fairies you can’t grow old.
Of course it’s better to be good. I know it is but it’s sometimes so hard to believe a thing even when you know it.
Oh, Aunt Elizabeth,” said Emily breathlessly, “when you hold the candle down like that it makes your face look just like a corpse! Oh, it’s so interesting.
When we have to do a thing... we can do it.
To be obliged to sit still when mental agony urges us to stride up and down is the refinement of torture.
Freedom and independence were all very well, but one should not be a little fool.
Anne had brought her slate down on Gilbert’s head and cracked it – slate not head – clear across.
I think the nicest thing about days is their unexpectedness. It’s jolly to wake up like this on a golden-fine morning and day-dream for ten minutes before I get up, imagining heaps of splendid things that might happen.
I think it is because I have a habit, when I am bored or disgusted with people of stepping suddenly into my own world and shutting the door. People resent this – I suppose it is only natural to resent a door being shut in your face. They call it slyness when it is only self-defense.
It was a night when you might expect to stray into a dance of mermaids.
Spring is singing in my blood today, and the lure of April is abroad on the air. I’m seeing visions and dreaming dreams, Pris. That’s because the wind is from the west. I do love the west wind. It sings of hope and gladness, doesn’t it? When the east wind blows I always think of sorrowful rain on the eaves and sad waves on a gray shore. When I get old I shall have rheumatism when the wind is east.” “And.
I can always get through to-day very nicely. It’s to-morrow I can’t live through.
And as for risk, there’s risk in pretty near everything a body does in this world. – Marilla Cuthbert.
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.
I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.
We are going to be the best of friends,” said Gilbert, jubilantly. “We were born to be good friends, Anne. You’ve thwarted destiny enough. I know we can help each other in many ways.
Jane says she will devote her whole life to teaching, and never, never marry, because you are paid a salary for teaching, but a husband won’t pay you anything, and growls if you ask for a share in the egg and butter money.
If I had my way I’d shut everything out of your life but happiness and pleasure, Anne,” said Gilbert in the tone that meant “danger ahead.” “Then.
Then the immortal heart of the woods will beat against ours and its subtle life will steal into our veins and make us its own forever, so that no matter where we go or how widely we wander we shall yet be drawn back to the forest to find our most enduring kinship.
She wondered if old dreams could haunt rooms – if, when one left forever the room where she had joyed and suffered and laughed and wept, something of her, intangible and invisible, yet nonetheless real, did not remain behind like a voiceful memory.