Diana: "I wish I were rich, and I could spend the whole summer at a hotel, eating ice cream and chicken salad." Anne: "You know something, Diana? We are rich. We have sixteen years to our credit, and we both have wonderful imaginations. We should be as happy as queens." [gestures to the setting sun] Anne Shirley: "Look at that. You couldn't enjoy its loveliness more if you had ropes of diamonds.

Besides, I've been feeling a little blue — just a pale, elusive azure. It isn't serious enough for anything darker.

Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.

And if you couldn't be loved, the next best thing was to be let alone.

I've done my best, and I begin to understand what is meant by 'the joy of strife'. Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.

I've just been imagining that it was really me you wanted after all and that I was to stay here for ever and ever. It was a great comfort while it lasted. But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop and that hurts.

The ghosts of things that never happened are worse than the ghosts of things that did.