Quotes from LM Montgomery

Anne, on her way to Orchard Slope, met Diana, bound for Green Gables, just where the mossy old log bridge spanned the brook below the Haunted Wood, and they sat down by the margin of the Dryad's Bubble, where tiny ferns were unrolling like curly-headed green pixy folk wakening up from a nap.

Never, if you can help it, be the bringer of ill news

Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well but there is more 'scope for the imagination without them. - Anne Shirley

I am not, proceeded Susan firmly, going to lament or whine or question the wisdom of the Almighty any more as I have been doing lately. Whining and shirking and blaming Providence do not get us anywhere. We have just got to grapple with whatever we have to do whether it is weeding the onion patch, or running the Government. I shall grapple. Those blessed boys have gone to war; and we women, Mrs. Dr. dear, must tarry by the stuff and keep a stiff upper lip.

It's all very well to read about sorrows and imagine yourself living through them heroically, but it's not so nice when you really come to have them

My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.' That's a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything.

Let your spirit soar to heaven with it whenever you use it, like the bird who once bore it.

What is to be will be, and what isn't to be happens sometimes.

Have you ever noticed how many different silences there are, Gilbert? The silence of the woods . . . of the shore . . . of the meadows . . . of the night . . . of the summer afternoon. All different because all the undertones that thread them are different. I'm sure if I were totally blind and insensitive to heat and cold I could easily tell just where I was by the quality of the silence about me.

The sunshine of a day in early spring, honey pale and honey sweet, was showering over the red brick buildings of Queenslea College, and the grounds about them, throwing through the bare, budding maples and elms, delicate, evasive etchings of gold and brown on the paths, and coaxing into life the daffodils that were peering greenly and perkily up under the windows of the co-eds' dressing-room.

Miss Patty and Miss Maria are hardly such stuff as dreams are made of, laughed Anne. Can you fancy them `globe-trotting' -- especially in those shawls and caps? I suppose they'll take them off when they really begin to trot, said Priscilla, but I know they'll take their knitting with them everywhere. They simply couldn't be parted from it. They will walk about Westminster Abbey and knit, I feel sure...

I've done my best and I begin to understand what is meant by the 'joy of the strife.' Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing.