Gossip, as usual, was one-third right and two-thirds wrong.

Rilla's heart skipped a beat — or, if that be a physiological impossibility, she thought it did.

Isn't it good just to be alive on a day like this? I pity the people who aren't born yet for missing it.

Gossip lies nine times and tells a half truth the tenth.

Gilbert took from his desk a little pink candy heart with a gold motto on it, “You are sweet,” and slipped it under the curve of Anne’s arm. Whereupon Anne arose, took the pink heart gingerly between the tips of her fingers, dropped it on the floor, ground it to powder beneath her heel, and resumed her position without deigning to bestow a glance on Gilbert.

Nasturtiums, who colored you, you wonderful, glowing things? You must have been fashioned out of summer sunsets.

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