Quotes About Expression

You do love me, Gilbert? You haven't said you loved me in so long. "My dear, I didn't think you needed words to know that. I can't live without you.

Reading stories is bad enough but writing them is worse.

I could spank Constantine and skin him alive afterwards, that I could, she exclaimed bitterly. Oh, Susan, I'm surprised at you, said the doctor, pulling a long face. Have you no regard for the proprieties? Skin him alive by all means but omit the spanking.

She could keep her silence, it was evident, as energetically as she could talk.

Don't let them make anything of you but yourself, that's all.

She said that everything had colour in her thought; the months of the year ran through all the tints of the spectrum, the days of the week were arrayed as Solomon in his glory, morning was golden, noon orange, evening crystal blue, and night violet. Every idea came to her mind robed in its own especial hue. Perhaps that was why her voice and words had such a charm, conveying to the listeners' perception such fine shadings of meaning and tint and music.

I suppose that's how it looks in prose. But it's very different if you look at it through poetry…and I think it's nicer…' Anne recovered herself and her eyes shone and her cheeks flushed… 'to look at it through poetry.

I hate to go mincing through life, afraid to take a single long step for fear somebody is watching. I want to wave my wild tail and walk by my wild lone. There wasn't a bit of real harm in my opening that window and talking to Perry. There wasn't even any harm in his trying to kiss me. He just did it to tease me. Oh, I hate conventions. As you say, hang consequences.' 'But we can't hang 'em, Pussy - that's just the trouble. They're more likely to hang us.

Something just flashes into your mind, so exciting, and you must out with it. If you stop to think it over, you spoil it all.

Mrs. Spencer said that my tongue must be hung in the middle. But it isn't — it's firmly fastened at one end.

Never on painter's canvas lives The charm of his fancy's dream.

Once in a thousand years, you know, one cat is allowed to speak. My cats are philosophers-neither of them ever cries over spilt milk.

But Gilbert's visits were not what they once were. Anne almost dreaded them. It was very disconcerting to look up in the midst of a sudden silence and find Gilbert's hazel eyes fixed upon her with a quite unmistakable expression in their grave depths; and it was still more disconcerting to find herself blushing hotly and uncomfortably under his gaze, just as if—just as if—well, it was very embarrassing.

How sympathetic you look, Anne…as sympathetic as only seventeen can look.

Nothing good about this but it's title. A priggish little yarn. And Hidden Riches is not a story--it's a machine. It creaks. It never made me forget for one instant that it was a story. Hence it isn't a story.

The only fault he found with her was that she did not sing at her work. "Folks should always sing at their work," he insisted. "Sounds cheerful-like." "Not always," retorted Valancy. "Fancy a butcher singing at his work. Or an undertaker.

Fancies are like shadows . . . you can't cage them, they're such wayward, dancing things.

Valancy, your poor father would turn over in his grave if he could hear you, said Mrs. Frederick. I dare say he would like that for a change, said Valancy brazenly

Making a--new--excuse me. Did you say language? Yes. What's the matter with English? Isn't it good enough for you, you incomprehensible little being?

Books are not written about proper children. They would be so dull no one would read them.

Captain Jim thought women were delightful creatures, who ought to have the vote, and everything else they wanted, bless their hearts; but he did not believe they could write.

Books are not written about proper children. They would be so dull nobody would read them.

For the next fortnight Anne writhed or reveled, according to the mood, in her literary pursuits. Now she would be jubilant over a brilliant idea, now despairing because some contrary character would not behave properly. Diana could not understand this. 'Make them do as you want them to,' she said. 'I can't,' mourned Anne. 'Averil is such an unmanageable heroine. She will do and say things I never meant her to. Then that spoils everything that went before and I have to write it all over again.

But if you have big ideas you have to use big words to express them