The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.

It's the fools that make all the trouble in the world, not the wicked.

She looked like a head-on collision between a fashion plate and a nightmare.

Perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

I wonder why people so commonly suppose that if two individuals are both writers they must therefore be hugely congenial.

Rilla was fond of italics, as most girls of fifteen are.

There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it...until they have grown so old that they forget the way. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again...The world calls them singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.