The woods are never solitary--they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity.

Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and mature and wise — which showed how young she was.

If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet.

After all," Anne had said to Marilla once, "I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.

Rebellion flamed up in her soul as the dark hours passed by – not because she had no future but because she had no past.

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

You were never poor as long as you had something to love.