Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while.

You never know what peace is until you walk on the shores or in the fields or along the winding red roads of Prince Edward Island in a summer twilight when the dew is falling and the old stars are peeping out and the sea keeps its mighty tryst with the little land it loves. You find your soul then. You realize that youth is not a vanished thing but something that dwells forever in the heart.

But was anything in life, Anne asked herself wearily, like one's imagination of it?

I love pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful—just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn't beautiful.

You noticed that I wore this outfit twice? Why, the only thing you wear twice is a sour expression.

Human nature is not obliged to be consistent.

That's all the freedom we canhope for - the freedom to choose our prison. [...]