Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes

Hark, I hear a robin calling! List, the wind is from the south! And the orchard-bloom is falling Sweet as kisses on the mouth. In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is woven mist, And the river's orient reaches Are the palest amethyst. Every limpid brook is singing Of the lure of April days; Every piney glen is ringing With the maddest roundelays. Come and let us seek together Springtime lore of daffodils, Giving to the golden weather Greeting on the sun-warm hills.

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

Twilight drops her curtain down, and pins it with a star.

We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.

Nobody can keep on being angry if she looks into the heart of a pansy for a little while.

Some people go through life trying to find out what the world holds for them only to find out too late that it's what they bring to the world that really counts.

In this world you've just got to hope for the best and prepare for the worst and take whatever God sends.

A bosom friend - an intimate friend, you know - a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul.

There is so much in the world for us all if we only have the eyes to see it, and the heart to love it, and the hand to gather it to ourselves--so much in men and women, so much in art and literature, so much everywhere in which to delight, and for which to be thankful.

But you have such dimples," said Anne, smiling affectionately into the pretty, vivacious face so near her own. "Lovely dimples, like little dents in cream. I have given up all hope of dimples. My dimple-dream will never come true; but so many of my dreams have that I mustn't complain. Am I all ready now?

Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne. It's only old people who should have rheumatism in their souls, though. Thanks goodness, I never have. When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as well go and pick out your coffin.

It's bad enough to feel insignificant, but it's unbearable to have it grained into your soul that you will never, can never, be anything but insignificant.

I hate to lend a book I love...it never seems quite the same when it comes back to me.

You must pay the penalty of growing-up, Paul. You must leave fairyland behind you.

We are never half so interesting when we have learned that language is given us to enable us to conceal our thoughts.

Anne Shirley. Anne with an "e.

I've always loved the night and I'll like lying awake and thinking over everything in life, past, present and to come. Especially to come.

That's the worst of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them.

…I'm so thankful for friendship. It beautifies life so much.

That's the worst…or the best…of real life, Anne. It won't let you be miserable. It keeps on trying to make you comfortable…and succeeding…even when you're determined to be unhappy and romantic.

If we don't chase things, sometimes the things following us can catch up." -L.M. Montgomery

Do you know, Gilbert, there are times when I strongly suspect that I love you!

It seems to me a most dreadful thing to go out of the world and not leave one person behind you who is sorry you are gone,' said Anne, shuddering.

You never know what peace is until you walk on the shores or in the fields or along the winding red roads of Prince Edward Island in a summer twilight when the dew is falling and the old stars are peeping out and the sea keeps its mighty tryst with the little land it loves. You find your soul then. You realize that youth is not a vanished thing but something that dwells forever in the heart.

it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine

After all," Anne had said to Marilla once, "I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.

Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.

It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.

As a rule, I am very careful to be shallow and conventional where depth and originality are wasted.

I wouldn't want to marry anybody who was wicked, but I think I'd like it if he could be wicked and wouldn't.

There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it...until they have grown so old that they forget the way. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again...The world calls them singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.

Humor is the spiciest condiment in the feast of existence. Laugh at your mistakes but learn from them, joke over your troubles but gather strength from them, make a jest of your difficulties but overcome them.

Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare... Perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

Nobody is ever too old to dream. And dreams never grow old.

The woods are never solitary — they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mystery — we may only wander, awed and spellbound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has one only — a mighty voice.

It's dreadful what little things lead people to misunderstand each other.

there's no use trying to live in other people's opinions. The only thing to do is live in your own.

You may tire of reality but you never tire of dreams.

A house isn't a home without the ineffable contentment of a cat with its tail folded about its feet. A cat gives mystery, charm, suggestion.

It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.

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?

I am simply a 'book drunkard.' Books have the same irresistible temptation for me that liquor has for its devotee. I cannot withstand them.

She will love deeply--suffer terribly--she will have glorious moments to compensate.

All things great are wound up with all things little.

Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.

Anyone who has gumption knows what it is, and anyone who hasn’t can never know what it is. So there is no need of defining it.

Snow in April is abominable," said Anne. "Like a slap in the face when you expect a kiss.

let's not borrow trouble. The rate of interest is too high.

I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.