If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet.
You have the itch for writing born in you. It's quite incurable. What are you going to do with it?
The trouble with you people is that you don't laugh enough.
Do you know what I think Mayflowers are, Marilla? I think they must be the souls of the flowers that died last summer, and this is their heaven.
It's the worst kind of cruelty — the thoughtless kind. You can't cope with it.
if I can't get what I want - well, I'll want what I can get.