It does not do to laugh at the pangs of youth. They are very terrible because youth has not yet learned that 'this, too, will pass away.

Doesn't matter what a person's name is as long as he behaves himself.

That is one consolation when you are poor—there are so many more things you can imagine about.

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

“You 're not eating anything,” said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it were a serious shortcoming. Anne sighed. “I can 't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?”

It is a strange thing to read a letter after the writer is dead - a bitter-sweet thing, in which pain and comfort are strangely mingled.

A cold in the head in June is an immoral thing.