"Don't give up all your romance, Anne," he whispered shyly, "a little bit is a good thing - not too much, of course, but keep a little of it, Anne, keep a little of it."

"Don't you just love poetry that gives you a crinkly feeling up and down your back?"

"I hear the Wind Woman running with soft, soft footsteps over the hill. I shall always think of the wind as a personality. She is a shrew when she blows from the north -- a lonely seeker when she blows from the east -- a laughing girl when she comes from the west -- and tonight from the south a little grey fairy."

"I have got acquainted with Lofty John. Ilse is a great friend of his and often goes there to watch him working in his carpenter shop. He says he has made enough ladders to get to heaven without the priest but that is just his joke."

"Lovely thoughts came flying to meet me like birds. They weren't my thoughts. I couldn't think anything half so exquisite. They came from somewhere."

"Everybody has. It wouldn't do for us to have all our dreams fulfilled. We would be as good as dead if we had nothing left to dream about."

"We are both going to pray that we may live together all our lives and die the same day."

"A suffering or tortured animal always filled her with such a surge of sympathy that it lifted her clean out of herself."

"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."

"Good night, belovedest. Your sleep will be sweet if there is any influences in the wishes of your own."

"When you ARE imagining you might as well imagine something worth while."

"There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I am such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

"A house from which nobody ever went away without feeling better in some way. A house in which there was always laughter."

"When weeds go to heaven, I suppose they will be flowers."

"But you have such dimples," said Anne, smiling affectionately into the pretty, vivacious face so near her own. "Lovely dimples, like little dents in cream. I have given up all hope of dimples. My dimple-dream will never come true; but so many of my dreams have that I mustn't complain. Am I all ready now?"

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

"Which would you rather be if you had the choice--divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good?"

"The woods are never solitary--they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity."

"My pen shall heal, not hurt."

"More than ever at that instant did she long for speech - speech that would conceal and protect where dangerous silence might betray."

"When I read that the flash came, and I took a sheet of paper. . .and I wrote on it: I, Emily Byrd Starr, do solemnly vow this day that I will climb the Alpine Path and write my name on the scroll of fame."

"There is so much in the world for us if we only have the eyes to see it, and the heart to love it, and the hand to gather it ourselves- so much in men and women, so much in art and literature, so much everywhere in which to delight, and for which to be thankful for."

"It's lovely to be going home and know it's home. I love green gables already, and I've never loved any place before. Oh, Marilla, I'm so happy."

"No one can be free who has a thousand ancestors."

"I'm really a very happy, contented little person in spite of my broken heart."

"I'm afraid concerts spoil people for everyday life."

"If you can sit in silence with a person for half an hour and yet be entirely comfortable, you and that person can be friends. If you cannot, friends you'll never be and you need not waste time in trying."

"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."

"He watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass judgement on it... She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence that would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would certainly lose if she were ever false to them."

"But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful "up back" - almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour - the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrises. Lovely ferns of ice all over the windows of the Blue Castle. Moonlight on birches in a silver thaw. Ragged shadows on windy evenings - torn, twisted, fantastic shadows. Great silences, austere and searching. Jewelled, barbaric hills. The sun suddenly breaking through grey clouds over long, white Mistawis. Ice-grey twilights, broken by snow-squalls, when their cosy living-room, with its goblins of firelight and inscrutable cats, seemed cosier than ever. Every hour brought a new revalation and wonder."

"Fear is more pain than is the pain it fears."

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

"Never be silent with persons you love and distrust," Mr. Carpenter had said once. "Silence betrays."

"It is ever so much easier to be good if your clothes are fashionable."

"Why should one hate you when you were so small? Could you be worth hating?"

"Aunt Elizabeth said, 'Do you expect to attend many balls, if I may ask?' and I said, 'Yes, when I am rich and famous.' and Aunt Elizabeth said, 'Yes, when the moon is made of green cheese."

"Look, do you see that poem?' she said suddenly, pointing."

"You have the itch for writing born in you. It's quite incurable. What are you going to do with it?"

"But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world."

"My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."

"Isn't it queer that the things we writhe over at night are seldom wicked things? Just humiliating ones."

"I never fancied cats much till I found the First Mate," he remarked, to the accompaniment of the Mate's tremendous purrs. "I saved his life, and when you've saved a creature's life you're bound to love it. It's next thing to giving life."

"Love! What a searing, torturing, intolerably sweet thing it was - this possession of body, soul and mind! With something at its core as fine and remote and purely spiritual as the tiny blue spark in the heart of the unbreakable diamond."

"How sadly things had changed since she had sat there the night after coming home! Then she had been full of hope and joy and the future had looked rosy with promise. Anne felt as if she had lived years since then, but before she went to bed there was a smile on her lips and peace in her heart. She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a friend--as duty ever is when we meet it frankly."

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

"Desire grows by what it feeds on."

"Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or in the deep, deep woods and I'd look up into the sky-up-up-up-into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer."

"Anyone who has gumption knows what it is and anyone who hasn't can never know what it is."

"When you've learned to laugh at the things that should be laughed at, and not to laugh at those that shouldn't, you've got wisdom and understanding."

"I have been reading three books Dean lent me this week. One was like a rose garden--very pleasant, but just a little too sweet. And one was like a pine wood on a mountain--full of balsam and tang--I loved it, and yet it filled me with a sort of despair. It was written so beautifully--I can never write like that, I feel sure. And one--it was just like a pig-sty. Dean gave me that one by mistake."