It's fun to be almost grown up in some ways, but it's not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla. There's so much to learn and do and think that there isn't time for big words.

Fancies are like shadows...you can't cage them, they're such wayward, dancing things.

A house isn't a home without the ineffable contentment of a cat with its tail folded about its feet. A cat gives mystery, charm, suggestion.

Anyhow, there'll be plenty of jam in heaven, that's one comfort, he said complacently. Perhaps there will...if we want it, she said, But what makes you think so? Why, it's in the catechism, said Davy. Oh, no, there is nothing like that in the catechism, Davy. But I tell you there is, persisted Davy. It was in that question Marilla taught me last Sunday. Why should we love God? It says, Because he makes preserves, and redeems us. Preserves is just a holy way of saying jam.

I'm always sorry when pleasant things end. Something still pleasanter may come after, but you can never be sure.

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

The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.