But was anything in life, Anne asked herself wearily, like one's imagination of it?

That's all the freedom we canhope for - the freedom to choose our prison. [...]

You see," she concluded miserably, "when I can call like that to him across space--I belong to him. He doesn't love me--he never will--but I belong to him.

Oh, Marilla, I thought I was happy before. Now I know that I just dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness. This is the reality.

If any person wants to see clearly just how much she has changed - whether for better or worse - let her revisit after some lapse of time any place where she has ones lived. She will meet her former self at every turn, with every familiar face, in every old recollection ... She will see how much she has gained in some respects, how much she has lost - irretrievably lost - in others.

Anyone who has gumption knows what it is, and anyone who hasn’t can never know what it is. So there is no need of defining it.

The trouble with you people is that you don't laugh enough.