I'm sure I shall always feel like a child in the wood.

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

I'd write of people and places like I knew, and I'd make my characters talk everyday English; and I'd let the sun rise and set in the usual quiet way without much fuss over the fact. If I had to have villains at all, I'd give them a chance, Anne--I'd give them a chance. There are some terrible bad men the world, I suppose, but you'd have to go a long piece to find them...But most of us have got a little decency somewhere in us. Keep on writing, Anne.

She had dreamed some brilliant dreams during the past winter and now they lay in the dust around her. In her present mood of self-disgust, she could not immediately begin dreaming again. And she discovered that, while solitude with dreams is glorious, solitude without them has few charms.

It was three o'clock in the morning – the wisest and most accursed hour of the clock. But sometimes it sets us free.

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

Nobody can keep on being angry if she looks into the heart of a pansy for a little while.