Outgrowing Things We Love Is Never A

And If You Couldn't Be Loved, The Next Best Thing Was To Be Let Alone.

Marilla Felt More Embarrassed Than Ever. She Had Intended To Teach Anne The Childish Classic, "now I Lay Me Down To Sleep." But She Had, As I Have Told You, The Glimmerings Of A Sense Of Humor--which Is Simply Another Name For A Sense Of The Fitness Of Things; And It Suddenly Occurred To Her That Simple Little Prayer, Sacred To The White-robed Childhood Lisping At Motherly Knees, Was Entirely Unsuited To This Freckled Witch Of A Girl Who Knew And Cared Nothing About God's Love, Since She Had Never Had It Translated To Her Through The Medium Of Human Love.

“you 're Not Eating Anything,” Said Marilla Sharply, Eying Her As If It Were A Serious Shortcoming. Anne Sighed. “i Can 't. I'm In The Depths Of Despair. Can You Eat When You Are In The Depths Of Despair?”

Let's Not Borrow Trouble. The Rate Of Interest Is Too High.

March Came In That Winter Like The Meekest And Mildest Of Lambs, Bringing Days That Were Crisp And Golden And Tingling, Each Followed By A Frosty Pink Twilight Which Gradually Lost Itself In An Elfland Of Moonshine.