There was no mistaking her sincerity--it breathed in every tone of her voice. Both Marilla and Mrs. Lynde recognized its unmistakable ring. But the former understood in dismay that Anne was actually enjoying her valley of humiliation--was reveling in the thoroughness of her abasement. Where was the wholesome punishment upon which she, Marilla, had plumed herself? Anne had turned it into a species of positive pleasure.

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

Why, I've never even had a quarrel with any one. I haven't an enemy. What a spineless thing I must be not to have even one enemy!

…there was something about her that made you feel it was safe to tell her secrets.

I hate to lend a book I love...it never seems quite the same when it comes back to me.

Proverbs are all very fine when there's nothing to worry you, but when you're in real trouble, they're not a bit of help.

It was less humiliating to admit crying because of your feet than because - because somebody had been amusing himself with you and your friends had forgotten you, and other people patronised you.