Walter's eyes were very wonderful. All the joy and sorrow and laughter and loyalty and aspirations of many generations lying under the sod looked out of their dark-gray depths.

[Anne, commenting on city life] "I think I would probably come to the conclusion that I'd like it for a while... but in the end, I'd still prefer the sound of the wind in the firs across the brook more than the tinkling of crystal.

I'm always sorry when pleasant things end. Something still pleasanter may come after, but you can never be sure.

I am quite likely to re-act to the opposite extreme - to feel rapturously that the world is beautiful and mere existence something to thank God for. I suppose our 'blues' are the price we have to pay for our temperament. 'The gods don't allow us to be in their debt.' They give us sensitiveness to beauty in all its forms but the shadow of the gift goes with it.

You're never safe from being surprised until you're dead.

Nobody can keep on being angry if she looks into the heart of a pansy for a little while.

People told her she hadn't changed much, in a tone which hinted they were surprised and a little disappointed she hadn't.