Lucy Maud Montgomery

The Blue Castle

    b7102003151has quoted2 months ago
    If it had not rained on a certain May morning Valancy Stirling's whole life would have been entirely different.
    Memmishas quoted5 months ago
    Little Cousin Georgiana. Not such a bad little soul. But dreary—very. Always looking as if she had just been starched and ironed. Always afraid to let herself go. The only thing she really enjoyed was a funeral. You knew where you were with a corpse. Nothing more could happen to it. But while there was life there was fear.
    Memmishas quoted5 months ago
    'Despair is a free man—hope is a slave.'"
    missninahas quotedlast year
    But I didn't realise what you actually meant to me till that moment at the switch. Then it came like a lightning flash. I knew I couldn't live without you—that if I couldn't pull you loose in time I'd have to die with you. I admit it bowled me over—knocked me silly. I couldn't get my bearings for a while. That's why I acted like a mule. But the thought that drove me to the tall timber was the awful one that you were going to die. I'd always hated the thought of it—but I supposed there wasn't any chance for you, so I put it out of my mind. Now I had to face it—you were under sentence of death and I couldn't live without you.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    When the brief afternoon wanes and the sun just touches the tops of the hills, there seems to be all over the woods an abundance, not of colour, but of the spirit of colour. There is really nothing but pure white after all, but one has the impression of fairy-like blendings of rose and violet, opal and heliotrope on the slopes—in the dingles and along the curves of the forest-land. You feel sure the tint is there, but when you look at it directly it is gone.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Holmes speaks of grief "staining backward" through the pages of life; but Valancy found her happiness had stained backward likewise and flooded with rose-colour her whole previous drab existence. She found it hard to believe that she had ever been lonely and unhappy and afraid.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    'the prison unto which we doom ourselves no prison is'
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Who could endure life if it were not for the hope of death?'
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Those silences at the back of the north wind got me. I've never belonged to myself since
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Old things passed away and all things became new.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    When he said good-evening you felt that it was a good evening and that it was partly his doing that it was. Also, you felt that some of the credit was yours.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    "The greatest happiness," said Valancy suddenly and distinctly, "is to sneeze when you want to."
    missninahas quotedlast year
    I may not be able to do much that I want to do but I won't do another thing that I don't want to do.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Not even her mother loved her—her mother who had been so disappointed that she was not a boy—or at least, a pretty girl.
    missninahas quotedlast year
    Men had the best of it, no doubt about that. This outlaw was happy, whatever he was or wasn't. She, Valancy Stirling, respectable, well-behaved to the last degree, was unhappy and had always been unhappy. So there you were.
    b9510132567has quoted2 years ago
    savagely.

    Barney was an interesting talker, with a knack of telling a great deal about his adventures and nothing at all about himself
    Wisloe Drakehas quoted3 years ago
    "Moonlight and blue twilight—that is what you look like in that dress. I like it. It belongs to you
    Wisloe Drakehas quoted3 years ago
    But Barney made a fragrant bed of bracken and fir boughs and they slept on it dreamlessly, under a ceiling of old spruces with moss hanging from them, while beyond them moonlight and the murmur of pines blended together so that one could hardly tell which was light and which was sound
    lanaebumpsteadhas quoted5 years ago
    he could not understand a thing he straightway condemned it. Simplicity itself! "But your first duty is to your mother. She needs you. She implores you to come home—she will forgive everything if you will only come home."
    "That's a pretty little thought," remarked Abel meditatively, as he ground some tobacco up in his hand.
    Dr. Stalling ignored him.
    "She entreats, but I, Miss Stirling,"—Dr. Stalling remembered that he was an ambassador of Jehovah—"I command. As your pastor and spiritual guide, I command you to come home with me—this very day. Get your hat and coat and come now."
    Dr. Stalling shook his finger at Valancy. Before that pitiless finger she drooped and wilted visibly.
    "She's giving in," thought Roaring Abel. "She'll go with him. Beats all, the power these preacher fellows have over women."
    Valancy was on the point of obeying Dr. Stalling. She must go home with him—and give up. She would lapse back to Doss Stirling again and for her few remaining days or weeks be the cowed, futile creature she had always been. It was her fate—typified by that relentless, uplifted forefinger. She could no more escape from it than Roaring Abel from his predestination. She eyed it as the fascinated bird eyes the snake. Another moment—
    "Fear is the original sin," suddenly said a still, small voice away back—back—back of Valancy's consciousness. "Almost all the evil in the world has its origin in the fact that some one is afraid of something."
    Valancy stood up. She was still in the clutches of fear, but her soul was her own again. She would not be false to that inner voice.
    "Dr. Stalling," she said slowly, "I do not at present owe any duty to my mother. She is quite well; she has all the assistance and companionship she requires; she does not need me at all. I am needed here. I am going to stay here."
    "There's spunk for you," said Roaring Abel admiringly.
    Dr. Stalling dropped his forefinger. One could not keep on shaking a finger forever.
    "Miss Stirling, is there nothing that can influence you? Do you remember your childhood days—"
    "Perfectly. And hate them."
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