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Favorite Anne of Green Gables moments ↳ Gilbert gives up the Avonlea School suggested by chunil.
Favorite Anne of Green Gables moments ↳ Gilbert’s first proposal suggested by anneandgilbert.
There was another pause - so long and so dreadful that Anne was driven at last to look up. Gilbert’s face was white to the lips. And his eyes - but Anne shuddered and looked away. There was nothing romantic about this. Must proposals be either grotesque or - horrible? Could she ever forget Gilbert’s face?
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She loved Gilbert - had always loved him! She knew that now. She knew that she could no more cast him out of her life without agony than she could have cut off her right hand and cast it from her.
This gif set is perfect.
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“You’ll marry alright. Some fool who sits and reads Tennyson by firelight no doubt. He’ll build you castles in the sky. I know you. You haven’t hurt me really. It’s just that I fooled myself into thinking that you loved me. I hope he breaks your heart. Whoever he is.”
Favorite Anne of Green Gables moments ↳ Anne’s defiance suggested by redhairedanne.
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Favorite Anne of Green Gables moments ↳ Gilbert “rescues” the unfortunate lily maid suggested by considerdlemmings.
He pulled close to the pile and extended his hand. There was no help for it; Anne, clinging to Gilbert Blythe’s hand, scrambled down into the dory, where she sat, drabbled and furious, in the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet crepe. It was certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances!
Favorite Anne of Green Gables moments ↳ Anne & Gilbert dancing in the Sequel suggested by DiamondSunbursts.
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“Dear old world,” she murmured, “you are very lovely,
and I am glad to be alive in you.”
(Source: notesforlife)
She was his at last, this evasive, long-sought Anne, won after years of patient waiting.
“Anne, wait! I’m sorry for teasing you about your hair. Don’t be mad at me for keeps.”
-Gilbert Blythe
It isn’t better. I’d much rather be pretty than smart.
“It’s all pretty much as I used to imagine it long ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and our consequent parting,” she laughed. “You are the bride of my dreams, Diana, with the `lovely misty veil’; and I am your bridesmaid. But, alas! I haven’t the puffed sleeves - though these short lace ones are even prettier. Neither is my heart wholly breaking nor do I exactly hate Fred.”
Diana was standing nervously in the middle of the room, arrayed in her bridal white, her black curls frosted over with the film of her wedding veil. Anne had draped that veil, in accordance with the sentimental compact of years before.
“We are not really parting, Anne,” protested Diana. “I’m not going far away. We’ll love each other just as much as ever. We’ve always kept that `oath’ of friendship we swore long ago, haven’t we?”
Diana Barry’s wedding.
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