It takes all sorts of people to make a world, as I've often heard, but I think there are some who could be spared,' Anne told her reflection in the east gable mirror that night.

My pen shall heal, not hurt.

That's one of the things we learn as we grow older -- how to forgive. It comes easier at forty than it did at twenty.

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

After all," Anne had said to Marilla once, "I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.

Make them do as you want them to," she said. "I can’t," mourned Anne. "Averil is such an unmanageable heroine. She will do and say things I never meant her to. Then that spoils everything that went before and I have to write it all over again.

I am simply a book drunkard.