Don't You Ever Imagine Things

I Wonder What A Soul…a Person's Soul…would Look Like,' Said Priscilla Dreamily. 'like That, I Should Think,' Answered Anne, Pointing To A Radiance Of Sifted Sunlight Streaming Through A Birch Tree. 'only With Shape And Features Of Course. I Like To Fancy Souls As Being Made Of Light. And Some Are All Shot Through With Rosy Stains And Quivers…and Some Have A Soft Glitter Like Moonlight On The Sea…and Some Are Pale And Transparent Like Mist At Dawn.

Fear Is A Confession Of Weakness. What You Fear Is Stronger Than You, Or You Think It Is, Else You Wouldn't Be Afraid Of It.

Anne Came Dancing Home In The Purple Winter Twilight Across The Snowy Places.

It's So Dreadful To Have Nothing To Love - Life Is So Empty - And There's Nothing Worse Than Emptiness.

Why, I've Never Even Had A Quarrel With Any One. I Haven't An Enemy. What A Spineless Thing I Must Be Not To Have Even One Enemy!