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she could not make sense of the things that were meant for her, but she was drawn to it all. And when she was alone, she felt like the moon: terrified of the sky, but completely in love with the way it held the stars.
we take pictures with people so they could remember us and leave memories behind so they don’t forget us. And the difference between the two are the same. We leave these moments in the air, hoping that somewhere, someone will find them and make sense of everything we chose to ignore.
She beautifies my disillusioned brain. She’s like my fairy godmother. For the last fifteen years, she’s called me every morning, and she makes me repeat after her: ‘This is the best day of my life. I’m a genius. I love people and people love me. I never criticize, condemn, or complain. Everyone I meet today is loving and respectful. I love God and God loves me.
“It’s impossible,” said pride.
“It’s risky,” said experience.
“It’s pointless,” said reason.
“Give it a try,” whispered the heart.
I shall give life here my best, and I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen’s my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes—what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows—what new landscapes—what new beauties—what curves and hills and valleys further on.
Anne always remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it.
I feel it’s a great responsibility because I have only the one chance. If I don’t grow up right I can’t go back and begin over again
But I don’t see the use of meeting trouble halfway, do you, Marilla? I think it would be better just to enjoy Mr. Allan while we have him.
Young men are all very well in their place, but it doesn’t do to drag them into everything, does it?
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