Cakes have such a terrible habit of turning out bad just when you especially want them to be good.

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

I have a little brown cocoon of an idea that may possibly expand into a magnificent moth of fulfilment.

Gilbert took from his desk a little pink candy heart with a gold motto on it, “You are sweet,” and slipped it under the curve of Anne’s arm. Whereupon Anne arose, took the pink heart gingerly between the tips of her fingers, dropped it on the floor, ground it to powder beneath her heel, and resumed her position without deigning to bestow a glance on Gilbert.

After all, what could you expect from a pig but a grunt?

My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

There is a book of Revelation in every one's life, as there is in the Bible.