She had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so dreadfully alone.
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.
More Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes
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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.
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When twilight drops her curtain down And pins it with a star Remember that you have a friend Though she may wander far.
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Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.
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That is one good thing about this world – there are always sure to be more springs.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY -
Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.
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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?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY -
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 -
Fancies are like shadows…you can’t cage them, they’re such wayward, dancing things.
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Thank goodness, we can choose our friends. We have to take our relatives as they are, and be thankful.
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Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.
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I have really done so few bad things that they have to keep harping on the old ones [.]
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Oh Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,” exclaimed Anne.
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The world looks like something God had just imaged for his own pleasure, doesn’t it?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY -
trees, unlike so many humans, always improve on acquaintance. No matter how much you like them at the start you are sure to like them much better further on, and best of all when you have known them for years and enjoyed intercourse with them in all seasons.
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But I believe I rather like superstitious people. They lend color to life. Wouldn’t it be a rather drab world if everybody was wise and sensible . . . and good? What would we find to talk about?
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY