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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

There are so many unpleasant things in the world already that there is no use in imagining any more.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Imaginary Use World
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

Believe Color Drab Rather Wise
Anne, 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 MONTGOMERY

Diana Knee Speak
Oh Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,” exclaimed Anne.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Anticipation Forward Half Look
I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Believe Giving Return
Facts are stubborn things, but, as some one has wisely said, not half so stubborn as fallacies.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Fact Half Stubborn
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
Youth is not a vanished thing but something that dwells forever in the heart.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Forever Heart Vanish Youth
She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a friend – as duty ever is when we meet it frankly.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Duty Faces Found Friend
Life, deal gently with her … Love, never desert her
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Deal Desert Gently
She had never before minded being alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt so dreadfully alone.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Dread Felt Mind Woman
It’s the worst kind of cruelty — the thoughtless kind. You can’t cope with it.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Cruelty Kind Worst
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
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
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.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Beautiful Inspiration Morning
There must be a limit to the mistakes one person can make, and when I get to the end of them, then I’ll be through with them. That’s a comforting thought
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

Comfort End Limit Mistake People

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?

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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?

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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