It is when my umbrella turns inside out that I am convinced of the total depravity of inanimate things.

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

Gossip, as usual, was one-third right and two-thirds wrong.

Don't look at me so sorrowfully and so disapprovingly, dearest. I can't be sober and serious - everything looks so rosy and rainbowy to me.

But there is always a November space after the leaves have fallen when she felt it was almost indecent to intrude on the woods…for their glory terrestrial had departed and their glory celestial of spirit and purity and whiteness had not yet come upon them.

Night is beautiful when you are happy--comforting when you are in grief--terrible when you are lonely and unhappy.

If a kiss could be seen I think it would look like a violet,' said Priscilla. Anne glowed. 'I'm so glad you spoke that thought, Priscilla, instead of just thinking it and keeping it to yourself. This world would be a much more interesting place…although it is very interesting, anyhow…if people spoke out their real thoughts.