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My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

Lucy Maud Montgomery

March came in that winter like the meekest and mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of moonshine.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Lamb Twilight Winter
Some nights are like honey – and some like wine – and some like wormwood.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Honeym Night Wine Wormwood
That is one good thing about this world – there are always sure to be more springs.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Animal Good Things Nature Spring
Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are, and be thankful.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Being Goodness Montgomery Thankful
We are never half so interesting when we have learned that language is given us to enable us to conceal our thoughts.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Half Interest Language
A child that has a quick temper, just blaze up and cool down, ain’t never likely to be sly or deceitful.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Anger Children Deceitful
One can’t get over the habit of being a little girl all at once.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Girl Habit Little
I have really done so few bad things that they have to keep harping on the old ones [.]
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Bad Create Few People Thing
Facts are stubborn things, but, as some one has wisely said, not half so stubborn as fallacies.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Fact Half Stubborn
Fancies are like shadows…you can’t cage them, they’re such wayward, dancing things.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Dance Fancy Shadow
Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Long Memories Remember
Heretics are wicked, but they’re mighty int’resting. It’s jest that they’ve got sorter lost looking for God, being under the impression that He’s hard to find – which He ain’t never.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Jest Look Lost Sorter Wicked
I do know my own mind,’ protested Anne. ‘The trouble is, my mind changes and then I have to get acquainted with it all over again.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Mind Own Trouble
How fair the realm Imagination opens to the view.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Imagination Realms View
I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

October September Skip World
My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Hope Life Perfect

My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

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My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

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