One Can't Get Over The Habit Of

I Don't Know That She Is As Amusing As She Was When She Was A Child, But She Makes Me Love Her And I Like People Who Make Me Love Them. It Saves Me So Much Trouble In Making Myself Love Them.

Rebellion Flamed Up In Her Soul As The Dark Hours Passed By – Not Because She Had No Future But Because She Had No Past.

I Don't Like Green Christmases. They're Not Green—they're Just Nasty Faded Browns And Grays.

Anyhow, There'll Be Plenty Of Jam In Heaven, That's One Comfort, He Said Complacently. Perhaps There Will...if We Want It, She Said, But What Makes You Think So? Why, It's In The Catechism, Said Davy. Oh, No, There Is Nothing Like That In The Catechism, Davy. But I Tell You There Is, Persisted Davy. It Was In That Question Marilla Taught Me Last Sunday. Why Should We Love God? It Says, Because He Makes Preserves, And Redeems Us. Preserves Is Just A Holy Way Of Saying Jam.

I Wish Every One In The World Was As Warm And Sheltered As We Are Tonight.