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Lucy Maud Montgomery

Lucy Maud Montgomery Books

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Emily's Quest

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Emily Climbs

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Anne of Avonlea

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Emily of New Moon

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Ana de Avonlea

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Anne of Ingleside

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The Blue Castle

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The story girl

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“But it was the little parcel that was responsible for her excitement. It was stamped with the sign manual of the House of Wareham and Emily knew what it must hold. Her book—her Moral of the Rose. She hurried home by the cross-lots road—the little old road over which the vagabond wandered and the lover went to his lady and children to joy and tired men home—the road that linked up eventually with the pasture field by the Blair Water and the Yesterday Road. Once in the grey-boughed solitude of the Yesterday Road Emily sat down in a bay of brown bracken and opened her parcel. There lay her book. Her book, spleet-new from the publishers. It was a proud, wonderful, thrilling moment. The crest of the Alpine Path at last? Emily lifted her shining eyes to the deep blue November sky and saw peak after peak of sunlit azure still towering beyond. Always new heights of aspiration. One could never reach the top really. But what a moment when one reached a plateau and outlook like this! What a reward for the long years of toil and endeavour and disappointment and discouragement.”

LovePassionFulfillment
Book:Emily's Quest
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“And then—but I suppose we'll be able to endure it somehow. To me, the strangest of all the strange things since 1914 is how we have all learned to accept things we never thought we could —to go on with life as a matter of course. [...] If one of them does not come back my heart will break—yet I go on and work and plan—yes, and even enjoy life by times. There are moments when we have real fun because, just for the moment, we don't think about things and then—we remember—and the remembering is worse than thinking of it all the time would have been.”

JoySufferingResilienceWwiWw1L M MontgomeryRilla Of Ingleside
Book:Rilla of Ingleside: A Tale of Youth and War in the Glen
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“Matthew had sheepishly unfolded the dress from its paper swathings and held it out with a deprecatory glance at Marilla, who feigned to be contemptuously filling the teapot, but nevertheless watched the scene out of the corner of her eye with a rather interested air. Anne took the dress and looked at it in reverent silence. Oh, how pretty it was--a lovely soft brown gloria with all the gloss of silk; a skirt with dainty frills and shirrings; a waist elaborately pintucked in the most fashinable way, with a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck. But the sleeves--they were the crowning glory! Long elbow cuffs, and above them two beautiful puffs divided by rows of shirring and bows of brown-silk ribbon.”

Touching
Book:Anne of Green Gables
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“I wonder,' said Gertrude dreamily, 'if some great blessing, great enough for th eprice, will be the meed of all our pain? Is the agony in which the world is shuddering the birth-pang of some wondrous new era? Or is it merely a futile struggle of ants In the gleam of a million million of suns? We think very lightly, Mr. Meredith, or a calamity which destroys an ant-hill and half its inhabitants. Does the Power that runs the universe think us of more importance than we think ants?' 'You forget,' said Mr. Meredith, with a flash of his dark eyes, 'that an infinite Power must be infinitely little as well as infinitely great. We are neither, therefore there are things too little as well as too great for us to apprehend. To the infinitely little an ant is of as much importance as a mastodon.”

GodSufferingMeaningInfinityL M MontgomeryRilla Of InglesideGertrude OliverJohn Meredith
Book:Rilla of Ingleside: A Tale of Youth and War in the Glen
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“For disguise the fact as we will, when friends,even the closest— perhaps the more because of that very closeness— meet again after a separation there is always a chill, lesser or greater, of change. Neither finds the other quite the same. This is natural and inevitable. Human nature is ever growing and retrogressive— never stationary. But still, with all our philosophy, who is if can repress a little feeling of bewildered disappointment when we realize that our friend is not and can never be just the same as before— even though the change may be by way of improvement?”

FriendshipGrowing Up
Book:Emily's Quest
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“Mrs. Allan's face was not the face of the girlbride whom the minister had brought to Avonlea five years before. It had lost some of its bloom and youthful curves, and there were fine, patient lines about eyes and mouth. A tiny grave in that very cemetery accounted for some of them; and some new ones had come during the recent illness, now happily over, of her little son. But Mrs. Allan's dimples were as sweet and sudden as ever, her eyes as clear and bright and true; and what her face lacked of girlish beauty was now more than atoned for in added tenderness and strength.”

SadnessMaturityDeath Of A Loved One
Book:Anne of Avonlea
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“Can the spring really come this year?' Then she laughed—such a dreadful little laugh, just as one might laugh in the face of death, I think, and said 'Observe my egotism. Because I, Gertrude Oliver, have lost a friend, it is incredible that the spring can come as usual. The spring does not fail because of the million agonies of others—but for mine—oh, can the universe go on?' 'Don't feel bitter with yourself, dear,' mother said gently. 'It is a very natural thing to feel as if things couldn't go on just the same when some great blow has changed the world for us. We all feel like that.”

DeathLossGriefSpringWwiWw1L M MontgomeryRilla Of Ingleside
Book:Rilla of Ingleside: A Tale of Youth and War in the Glen
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“For Anne to take things calmly would have been to change her nature. All "spirit and fire and dew," as she was, the pleasures and pains of life came to her with trebled intensity. Marilla felt this and was vaguely troubled over it, realizing that the ups and downs of existence would probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul and not sufficiently understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more than compensate.”

EmotionsDelightAdhdImpulsivity
Author:Lucy Maud Montgomery
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“If I were a man I think I’d be a minster. They can have such an influence for good, if their theology is sound; and it must be thrilling to preach splendid sermons and stir your hearers’ hearts. Why can’t women be ministers, Marilla? I asked Mrs. Lynde that and she was shocked and said it would be a scandalous thing. She said there might be female ministers in the States and she believed there was, but thank goodness we hadn’t got to that stage in Canada yet and she hoped we never would. But I don't see why. I think women would be splendid ministers. When a social reunion is to be prepared, it's the women who do all the work. I'm sure that Mrs. Lynde can pray each prayer just as well as Mr. Bell, and I don't doubt she could preach well with some practice.”

InspirationalFeminism
Book:Anne of Green Gables: The Unexpected Arrival at Green Gables
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“I have only known you for a few months but I cannot realize that there was ever a time when I did not know you. . .when you had not come into my life to bless and hallow it. I will always look back to this year as the most wonderful in my life because it brought you to me... My love for you has made my life very rich and it has kept me from much of harm and evil. I owe this all to you, my sweetest teacher.”

LoveTeacherClassicLetter
Book:Anne of Avonlea (Annotated)
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“Anne went up the narrow stairs and into that little east room with a full heart. It was as a shrine to her. Here her mother had dreamed the exquisite, happy dreams of anticipated motherhood; here that red sunrise light had fallen over both of them in the sacred hour of birth; here her mother had died. Anne looked about her reverently, her eyes dim with tears. It was for her one of the jewelled hours of life that gleam out radiantly forever in memory.”

DeathMotherDaughterMemoryMotherhoodMourningSunriseAnneofgreengables
Book:Anne of the Island
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