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

brains last, beauty doesn't.

I do know my own mind,' protested Anne. 'The trouble is, my mind changes and then I have to get acquainted with it all over again.

A house isn't a home without the ineffable contentment of a cat with its tail folded about its feet. A cat gives mystery, charm, suggestion.

We are never half so interesting when we have learned that language is given us to enable us to conceal our thoughts.

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.

a few italics really do relieve your feelings.