That's the worst…or the best…of real life, Anne. It won't let you be miserable. It keeps on trying to make you comfortable…and succeeding…even when you're determined to be unhappy and romantic.

She seemed to walk in an atmosphere of things about to happen.

Maples are such sociable trees ... They're always rustling and whispering to you.

You must pay the penalty of growing-up, Paul. You must leave fairyland behind you.

I'm afraid to speak or move for fear that all this wonderful beauty will just vanish... like a broken silence.

I know I chatter on far too much... but if you only knew how many things I want to say and don't. Give me SOME credit.

Here sat Marilla Cuthbert, when she sat at all, slightly distrustful of sunshine, which seemed to her too dancing and irresponsible a thing for a world which was meant to be taken seriously.