There is a hundred of me... some of the "me's" are good, some not. It's better than being just two or three--- more exciting, more interesting.

(from Rilla of Ingleside) One spring day, when the daffodils were blowing on the Ingleside lawn, and the banks of the brook in Rainbow Valley were sweet with white and purple violets, the little, lazy afternoon accommodation train pulled into the Glen station. It was very seldom that passengers for the Glen came by that train, so nobody was there to meet it except the new station agent and a small black-and-yellow dog, who for four and a half long years had met every train that had steamed into Glen St. Mary. Thousands of trains had Dog Monday met and never had the boy he waited and watched for returned. Yet still Dog Monday watched with eyes that never quite lost hope. Perhaps his dog-heart failed him at times; he was growing old and rheumatic; when he walked back to his kennel after each train had gone his gait was very sober now--he never trotted but went slowly with a drooping head and a depressed tail that had quite lost its old saucy uplift. One passenger stepped off the train--a tall fellow in a faded lieutenant's uniform, who walked with a barely perceptible limp. He had a bronzed face and there were some gray hairs in the ruddy curls that clustered around his forehead. The new station agent looked at him anxiously. He was used to seeing khaki-clad figures come off the train, some met by a tumultuous crowd, others, who had sent no word of their coming, stepping off quietly like this one. But there was a certain distinction of bearing and features in this soldier that caught his attention and made him wonder a little more interestedly who he was.

A black-and-yellow streak shot past the station agent. Dog Monday stiff? Dog Monday rheumatic? Dog Monday old? Never believe it. Dog Monday was a young pup, gone clean mad with rejuvenating joy. He flung himself against the tall soldier, with a bark that choked in his throat from sheer rapture. He flung himself on the ground and writhed in a frenzy of welcome. He tried to climb the soldier's khaki legs and slipped down and groveled in an ecstasy that seemed as if it must tear his little body in pieces. He licked his boots and when the lieutenant had, with laughter on his lips and tears in his eyes, succeeded in gathering the little creature up in his arms, Dog Monday laid his head on the khaki shoulder and licked the sunburned neck, making queer noises in between barks and sobs. The station agent had heard the story of Dog Monday. He knew now who the returned soldier was. Dog Monday's long vigil was ended. Jem Blythe had come home.

(addressing the Lady of the Lake) Listen, strange woman: lyin' in ponds, distributin' swords, is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives itself from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

Dudley Moore

The best car safety device is a rear-view mirror with a cop in it.

George Moore

After all, there is but one race -- humanity.

Hannah More

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off the goal.

Christopher Morley

Life is a foreign language; all men mispronounce it.

If we discovered that we had only five minutes left to say all that we wanted to say, every telephone booth would be occupied by people calling other people to stammer that they loved them.

Doris Mortman

Until you make peace with who you are, you'll never be content with what you have.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.

Muhammed

The ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr.

(from Al-Duha ch.93, of the Penguin Qur'an) By the light of day, and by the dark of night, your Lord has not forsaken you, nor does he abhor you.

Alice Munro

Lovers. Not a soft word, as people thought, but cruel and tearing.

J. A. H. Murray

The circle of the English language has a well-defined centre but no discernible circumference.

John Myers

Super-seniors, or tenured students?