"For a moment Anne's heart fluttered queerly
and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert's gaze
and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face.
It was as if a veil that had hung
before her inner consciousness had been lifted,
giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings
and realities.
Perhaps, after all,
romance did not come into one's life
with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down;
perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend
through quiet ways;
perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose,
until some sudden shaft of illumination
flung athwart its pages,
betrayed the rhythm and the music;
perhaps...perhaps...
love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship,
as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath..."
—Lucy Maud Montgomery
Anne of Avonlea
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