Emily of New Moon (Emily Part 1) (Emily Starr Trilogy)

by L.M. Montgomery

And always when the flash came to her Emily felt that life was a wonderful, mysterious thing of persistent beauty.

"The flash will never come again—it can't," she thought. But Emily had inherited certain things from her fine old ancestors—the power to fight—to suffer,—to pity—to love very deeply—to rejoice—to endure.

From a worldly point of view I've certainly been a failure.

You mustn't be afraid of anything, Emily. Death isn't terrible. The universe is full of love—and spring comes everywhere—and in death you open and shut a door. There are beautiful things on the other side of the door. I'll find your mother there—I've doubted many things, but I've never doubted that. Sometimes I've been afraid that she would get so far ahead of me in the ways of eternity that I'd never catch up. But I feel now that she's waiting for me. And we'll wait for you—we won't hurry—we'll loiter and linger till you catch up with us."

You have yet to learn how kind time is.

"She will love deeply—she will suffer terribly—she will have glorious moments to compensate—as

Nobody who was loved as much as he was could be a failure.

"I am her duty," thought Emily. "Father said nobody ever liked a duty. So Aunt Elizabeth will never like me."

"It was very dull," pleaded Emily, as if dullness and wickedness were quite incompatible.

She was as sensitive to ugliness and pain as she was to beauty and pleasure, and this thing was both hideous and agonizing.

Outgrowing things we love is never a pleasant process.