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 MONTGOMERYShe had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so dreadfully alone.
More Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes
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How fair the realm Imagination opens to the view.
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What had seemed easy in imagination was rather hard in reality.
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We are never half so interesting when we have learned that language is given us to enable us to conceal our thoughts.
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It will come sometime. Some beautiful morning she will just wake up and find it is Tomorrow. Not Today but Tomorrow. And then things will happen … wonderful things.
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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?
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Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
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Dear old world’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.
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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
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A child that has a quick temper, just blaze up and cool down, ain’t never likely to be sly or deceitful.
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I’m afraid our old world has come to an end, Rilla. We’ve got to face the fact. (Walter)
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Some nights are like honey – and some like wine – and some like wormwood.
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Fear 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.
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Maples are such sociable trees … They’re always rustling and whispering to you.
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We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.
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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