Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.

Secrets are generally terrible. Beauty is not often hidden — only ugliness and deformity.

...the sorrows God sent us brought comfort and strength with them, while the sorrows we brought on ourselves, through folly or wickedness, were by far the hardest to bear.

When I think something nice is going to happen I seem to fly right up on the wings of anticipation; and then the first thing I realize I drop down to earth with a thud. But really, Marilla, the flying part is glorious as long as it lasts. . . it's like soaring through a sunset. I think it almost pays for the thud.

I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.

It was really dreadful to be so different from other people…and yet rather wonderful, too, as if you were a being strayed from another star.

Behind them in the garden the little stone house brooded among the shadows. It was lonely but not forsaken. It had not yet done with dreams and laughter and the joy of life; there were to be future summers for the little stone house; meanwhile, it could wait. And over the river in purple durance the echoes bided their time.