You never know what peace is until you walk on the shores or in the fields or along the winding red roads of Prince Edward Island in a summer twilight when the dew is falling and the old stars are peeping out and the sea keeps its mighty tryst with the little land it loves. You find your soul then. You realize that youth is not a vanished thing but something that dwells forever in the heart.

It makes you feel very virtuous when you forgive people, doesn't it?

For there is no bond more lasting than that formed by the mutual confidences of that magic time when youth is slipping from the sheath of childhood and beginning to wonder what lies for it beyond those misty hills that bound the golden road.

It's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it?

I'm not a bit changed - not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real me - back here - is just the same.

Fear is a confession of weakness. What you fear is stronger than you, or you think it is, else you wouldn't be afraid of it.

When one great passion seizes possession of the soul all other feelings are crowded out.