Saying One's Prayers Isn't Exactly

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.

Secrets Are Generally Terrible. Beauty Is Not Often Hidden — Only Ugliness And Deformity.

…i Think,' Concluded Anne, Hitting On A Very Vital Truth, 'that We Always Love Best The People Who Need Us.

Plum Puffs Can't Minister To A Mind Diseased Or A World That's Crumbling To Pieces

I'm Afraid Our Old World Has Come To An End, Rilla. We've Got To Face The Fact. (walter)