Anne, on her way to Orchard Slope, met Diana, bound for Green Gables, just where the mossy old log bridge spanned the brook below the Haunted Wood, and they sat down by the margin of the Dryad’s Bubble, where tiny ferns were unrolling like curly-headed green pixy folk wakening up from a nap.
I apologized pretty well, didn’t I?” she said proudly as they went down the lane. “I thought since I had to do it I might as well do it thoroughly.” “You did it thoroughly, all right enough,” was Marilla’s comment. Marilla was dismayed at finding herself inclined to laugh over the recollection. She had also an uneasy feeling that she ought to scold Anne for apologizing so well; but then, that was ridiculous!
Anne Shirley, how often have I told you never to let one of those Italians in the house! I don’t believe in encouraging them to come around at all.
Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well but there is more ’scope for the imagination without them. – Anne Shirley.
Tommy and Adam Cowan, over at Markdale, are twins; and they’re both cross-eyed. So I s’posed that was what being twins meant.
How horrible it is that people have to grow up!
Oh, aren’t you glad it is spring? The beauty of winter is that it makes you appreciate spring.
He walked jauntily away, being hungry, and the unfortunate Matthew was left to do that which was harder for him than bearding a lion in its den – walk up to a girl – a strange girl – an orphan girl – and demand of her why she wasn’t a boy.
They belonged to each other; and, no matter what life might hold for them, it could never alter that. Their happiness was in each other’s keeping and both were unafraid.
There’s all the difference in the world, you know, between being inside looking out and outside looking in.
How beautiful it was, lying embowered in the twilight of the old trees; the tips of the loftiest spruces came out in purple silhouettes against the north-weatersn sky of rose and amber; down behind it the Blair Water dreamed in silver; the Wind Woman had folded her misty bat-wings in a valley of sunset and stillness that lay over the world like a blessing. Emily felt sure that everything would be all right.
How do you like my picture, Phil?” “It seems a very dull one,” said Phil, with a grimace. “Oh, but I’ve left out the transforming thing,” said Anne softly. “There’ll be love there, Phil – faithful, tender love, such as I’ll never find anywhere else in the world – love that’s waiting for me. That makes my picture a masterpiece, doesn’t it, even if the colors are not very brilliant?
He who accepts human love must bind it to his soul with pain, and she is not lost to me. Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
She had heard her mother say that she loved turns in roads – they were so provocative and alluring. Rilla thought she hated them. She had seen Jem and Jerry vanish from her around a bend in the road – then Walter – and now Ken. Brothers and playmate and sweetheart – they were all gone, never, it might be, to return. Yet still the Piper piped and the dance of death went on.
I like people who make me love them. It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them. – Miss Barry.
Love! What a searing, torturing, intolerably sweet thing it was – this possession of body, soul and mind! With something at its core as fine and remote and purely spiritual as the tiny blue spark in the heart of the unbreakable diamond.
I wonder,” said Miss Oliver, “if humanity will be any happier because of aeroplanes. It seems to me that the sum of human happiness remains much the same from age to age, no matter how it may vary in distribution, and that all the ‘many inventions’ neither lessen nor increase it.” “After.
Well now, I dunno.
When I don’t like the name of a place or a person I always imagine a new one and always think of them so.
Chapter 15 A Tempest in the School Teapot.