She had a way of embroidering life with stars.
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERYtrees, 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.
More Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes
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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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Anne 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.
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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.
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Gilbert put his arm about them. ‘Oh, you mothers!’ he said. ‘You mothers! God knew what He was about when He made you.
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She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a friend – as duty ever is when we meet it frankly.
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most people worry so much, they think you’re not right if you don’t worry.
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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.
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Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.
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All life lessons are not learned at college,’she thought. Life teaches them everywhere.
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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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Oh Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,” exclaimed Anne.
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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?
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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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I have really done so few bad things that they have to keep harping on the old ones [.]
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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






