How wicked I was to wish that something dramatic would happen!' she thought. 'Oh, if we could only have those dear, monotonous, pleasant days back again! I would *never* grumble about them again.

Death grows friendlier as we grow older.

Oh, Marilla, I thought I was happy before. Now I know that I just dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness. This is the reality.

Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne. There was nobody else -- there never could be anybody else for me but you. I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.

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

A cold in the head in June is an immoral thing.

Thank goodness air and salvation are still free...and so is laughter.