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.
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.
I think the mirror should be tilted slightly upward when it's reflecting life--toward the cheerful, the tender, the compassionate, the brave, the funny, the encouraging, all those things.
Optimism and pessimism are infectious and they spread more rapidly from the head downward than in any other direction.