“Mrs. Cadbury: Tell me what you know about yourself.Anne Shirley: Well, it really isn't worth telling, Mrs. Cadbury... but if you let me tell you what I IMAGINE about myself you'd find it a lot more interesting.”

“Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive--it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult.”

“Tell me this--if you knew you would be poor as a church mouse all your life--if you knew you'd never have a line published--would you still go on writing--would you?''Of course I would,' said Emily disdainfully. 'Why, I have to write--I can't help it at times--I've just got to.”

“Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while.”

“Well, said Marilla, unable to find an excuse for deffering her explanation longer, "I suppose I might as well tell you. Matthew and I have decided to keep you- that is, if you try to be a good little girl and show yourself grateful. Why, child whatever is the matter?" "I'm crying," said Anne in a tone of bewilderment. "I can't think why. I'm as glad as can be.”

“You'd find it easier to be bad than good if you had red hair," said Anne reproachfully. "People who haven't red hair don't know what trouble is.”

“They keep coming up new all the time - things to perplex you, you know. You settle one question and there's another right after. There are so many things to be thought over and decided when you're beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all the time thinking them over and deciding what's right. It's a serious thing to grow up, isn't it, Marilla?”