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.

Few things in Avonlea ever escaped Mrs. Lynde. It was only that morning Anne had said, "If you went to your own room at midnight, locked the door, pulled down the blind, and sneezed, Mrs. Lynde would ask you the next day how your cold was!

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

one reason why I like writing poetry - you can say so many things in it that are true in poetry but wouldn't be true in prose.

She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a friend - as duty ever is when we meet it frankly.

I wish every one in the world was as warm and sheltered as we are tonight.

I wish I were dead, or that it were tomorrow night,' groaned Phil.