She had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so dreadfully alone.

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

In daylight I belong to the world . . . in the night to sleep and eternity. But in the dusk I'm free from both and belong only to myself . . . and you

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.

Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are, and be thankful.

Don't you just love poetry that gives you a crinkly feeling up and down your back?

Anne always remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it.