War was a hellish, horrible hideous thing - too horrible and hideous to happen in the twentieth century between civilised nations.

But she had long ago learned that when she wandered into the realm of fancy she must go alone. The way to it was by an enchanted path where not even her dearest might follow her.

I suppose it was a romantic was to perish... for a mouse

I've had a splendid time," she concluded happily, "and I feel that it marks an epoch in my life. But the best of it all was the coming home.

Most of the trouble in life comes from misunderstanding, I think,' said Anne.

You can't have many exclamation points left,' thought Anne, 'but no doubt the supply of italics is inexhaustible.

It makes you feel very virtuous when you forgive people, doesn't it?