I was very much provoked. Of course, I knew there are no fairies; but that needn't prevent my thinking there is.
I was very much provoked. Of course, I knew there are no fairies; but that needn't prevent my thinking there is.
Well, one can't get over the habit of being a liitle girl all at once.
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…
I've just been imagining that it was really me you wanted after all and that I was to stay here for ever and ever. It was a great comfort while it lasted. But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop and that hurts.
They keep coming up new all the time - things to perplex you, you know. You settle one question and there's another right after. There are so many things to be thought over and decided when you're beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all the time thinking them over and deciding what's right. It's a serious thing to grow up, isn't it, Marilla?
But was anything in life, Anne asked herself wearily, like one's imagination of it?
Nothing seems worthwhile. My very thoughts are old. I've thought them all before. What is the use of living after all, Anne?
I'd rather look like you than be pretty.
When a man don't know his own mind, Miss Shirley, ma'am, how's a poor woman going to be sure of it?
I can't cheer up - I don't want to cheer up. It's nicer to be miserable!
I've loved you ever since the day you broke your slate over my head
To dispair is to turn your back on God.
Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible says so - but, Anne, it won't be what I've been used to.
People told her she hadn't changed much, in a tone which hinted they were surprised and a little disappointed she hadn't.
If a kiss could be seen it would look like a violet.
All i want is a dress with puffy sleaves
I don't know that she is as amusing as she was when she was a child, but she makes me love her and I like people who make me love them. It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them.
Life is worth living as long as there's a laugh in it.
Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.
I am afraid to speak or move for the fear all this wonderful beauty will vanish just like a broken silence
Poor soul, she always knew everything about her neighbors, but she never was very well acquainted with herself.
I'm just tired of everything…even of the echoes. There is nothing in my life but echoes…echoes of lost hopes and dreams and joys. They're beautiful and mocking.
All things great are wound up with all things little.
I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.
Look at that sea, girls--all silver and shadow and vision of things not seen. We couldn't enjoy its loveliness any more if we had millions of dollars and ropes of diamonds.
Tomorrow is another day with no mistakes in it.
I believe I've put forth a tiny soul-root into Kingsport soil this afternoon. I hope so. I hate to feel transplanted.
She had dreamed some brilliant dreams during the past winter and now they lay in the dust around her. In her present mood of self-disgust, she could not immediately begin dreaming again. And she discovered that, while solitude with dreams is glorious, solitude without them has few charms.
I'm really a very happy, contented little person in spite of my broken heart.
Anne always remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it.
I'm not a bit changed--not really. I'm only just pruned down and branched out. The real ME--back here--is just the same.
Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. Like most quiet folks he liked talkative people when they were willing to do the talking themselves and did not expect him to keep up his end of it.
We ought always to try to influence others for good.
I feel as if I had opened a book and found roses of yesterday sweet and fragrant, between its leaves.
Thank goodness air and salvation are still free...and so is laughter.
I've come home in love with loneliness
Anne came dancing home in the purple winter twilight across the snowy places.
I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
Mrs. Spencer said it was wicked of me to talk like that, but I didn't mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it?
We pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won, but exact their dues of work and self denial, anxiety and discouragement.
I have learned to look upon each little hindrance as a jest and each great one as a foreshadowing of victory.
The little things of life, sweet and excellent in their place, must not be the things lived for; the highest must be sought and followed; the life of heaven must be begun here on earth.
Mr. Harrison was certainly different from other people…and that is the essential characteristic of a crank, as everybody knows.
Anne was curled up Turk-fashion on the hearthrug, gazing into that joyous glow where the sunshine of a hundred summers was being distilled from the maple cordwood.
It has always seemed to me. ever since early childhood, amid all the commonplaces of life, i was very near to a kingdom of ideal beauty. Between it and me hung only a thin veil. I could never draw it quite aside, but sometimes a wind fluttered it and I caught a glimpse of the enchanting realms beyond-only a glimpse-but those glimpses have always made life worthwhile.
Mrs. Spencer said that my tongue must be hung in the middle. But it isn't - it's firmly fastened at one end.
Which would you rather be if you had the choice--divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good?
I know I haven't much sense or sobriety, but I've got what is ever so much better - the knack of making people like me.
There is a book of Revelation in every one's life, as there is in the Bible.
Now, Anne, don't look as if you were trying to understand. Seventeen can't understand.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories