In daylight I belong to the world . . . in the night to sleep and eternity. But in the dusk I’m free from both and belong only to myself . . . and you
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYIn daylight I belong to the world . . . in the night to sleep and eternity. But in the dusk I’m free from both and belong only to myself . . . and you
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYThere are so many unpleasant things in the world already that there is no use in imagining any more.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYAnne was always glad in the happiness of her friends; but it is sometimes a little lonely to be surrounded everywhere by happiness that is not your own.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYGilbert put his arm about them. ‘Oh, you mothers!’ he said. ‘You mothers! God knew what He was about when He made you.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYYouth is not a vanished thing but something that dwells forever in the heart.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYAnne, are you killed?’ shrieked Diana, throwing herself on her knees beside her friend. ‘Oh, Anne, dear Anne, speak just one word to me and tell me if you’re killed.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYDear old world’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYMrs. 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?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYOh Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,” exclaimed Anne.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYThe world looks like something God had just imaged for his own pleasure, doesn’t it?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYFear is the original sin. Almost all of the evil in the world has its origin in the fact that some one is afraid of something.It is a cold slimy serpent coiling about you. It is horrible to live with fear; and it is of all things degrading.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYI hate to lend a book I love…it never seems quite the same when it comes back to me.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYFacts are stubborn things, but, as some one has wisely said, not half so stubborn as fallacies.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYI’m really a very happy, contented little person in spite of my broken heart.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYShe had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so dreadfully alone.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYI’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