Trees have as much individuality as human beings. Not even two spruces are alike. There is always some kink or curve or bend of bough to single each one out from its fellows.

Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.

All i want is a dress with puffy sleaves

Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare... Perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

Night is beautiful when you are happy--comforting when you are in grief--terrible when you are lonely and unhappy.

…I think,' concluded Anne, hitting on a very vital truth, 'that we always love best the people who need us.

I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.