Rilla's heart skipped a beat — or, if that be a physiological impossibility, she thought it did.

Have you ever noticed how many silences there are Gilbert? The silence of the woods....of the shore....of the meadows....of the night....of the summer afternoon. All different because the undertones that thread them are different.

I love pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful—just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn't beautiful.

I'd like to add some beauty to life," said Anne dreamily. "I don't exactly want to make people KNOW more... though I know that IS the noblest ambition... but I'd love to make them have a pleasanter time because of me... to have some little joy or happy thought that would never have existed if I hadn't been born.

the little things in life often make more trouble than the big things.

Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,' she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. 'What nice dreams they must have!

it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine