Snow In April Is Abominable," Said Anne.

You Never Know What Peace Is Until You Walk On The Shores Or In The Fields Or Along The Winding Red Roads Of Prince Edward Island In A Summer Twilight When The Dew Is Falling And The Old Stars Are Peeping Out And The Sea Keeps Its Mighty Tryst With The Little Land It Loves. You Find Your Soul Then. You Realize That Youth Is Not A Vanished Thing But Something That Dwells Forever In The Heart.

I Like To Hear A Storm At Night. It Is So Cosy To Snuggle Down Among The Blankets And Feel That It Can't Get At You.

There Be Three Gentle And Goodlie Things, To Be Here, To Be Together, And To Think Well Of One Another.

For There Is No Bond More Lasting Than That Formed By The Mutual Confidences Of That Magic Time When Youth Is Slipping From The Sheath Of Childhood And Beginning To Wonder What Lies For It Beyond Those Misty Hills That Bound The Golden Road.

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.