Lucy Maud
Lucy Maud
children heart artist
There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it...until they have grown so old that they forget the way. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again...The world calls them singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.
thinking expectations would-be
I think it would be worse to expect nothing than to be disappointed.
summer night wind-blowing
It was rapture enough just to sit there beside him in silence, alone in the summer night in the white splendor of moonshine, with the wind blowing down on them out of the pine woods.
ambition dust my-ambition
I must get out all my ambitions and dust them.
summer stars fall
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.
prayer praying
Saying one's prayers isn't exactly the same thing as praying....
dream rooms pretty-things
[O]ne can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty things.
fear hatred world
Fear is a vile thing, and is at the bottom of almost every wrong and hatred of the world.
stars dark night
The night was clear and frosty, all ebony of shadow and silver of snowy slope; big stars were shining over the silent fields; here and there the dark pointed firs stood up with snow powdering their branches and the wind whistling through them.
summer june would-be
I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.
heart healing love-is
I am sure we should not shut our hearts against the healing influences that nature offers us. But I understand your feeling. I think we all experience the same thing. We resent the thought that anything can please us when someone we love is no longer here to share the pleasure with us, and we almost feel as if we were unfaithful to our sorrow when we find our interest in life returning to us.
fun thinking way
It's fun to be almost grown up in some ways, but it's not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla. There's so much to learn and do and think that there isn't time for big words.
beautiful perhaps-love rose
Perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.
children woods feels
I'm sure I shall always feel like a child in the wood.