…I think,' concluded Anne, hitting on a very vital truth, 'that we always love best the people who need us.

An old house with its windows gone always makes me think of something dead with its eyes picked out.

Oh, sometimes I think it is of no use to make friends. They only go out of your life after awhile and leave a hurt that is worse than the emptiness before they came.

She had a way of embroidering life with stars.

I'm always sorry when pleasant things end. Something still pleasanter may come after, but you can never be sure.

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

How fair the realm Imagination opens to the view.