Read:The Determining Acts of Her Life

Anne Shirley: Ruby, this is serious. We're supposed to be studying each other's lips. I think yours are delicate and inviting.

Ruby Gillis: Really?

Anne: And Tillie's are soft, even to the eye. And Jane's are shaped like a rosebud that's beginning to bloom. Mine are awful. Like the fat caterpillars that live in our old willow tree.

Jane Andrews: They do look a bit swollen.

Anne: It's my own fault. I have a terrible habit of chewing on my bottom lip when I'm thinking. The trouble is that I'm always thinking. Are they unpleasant to look at?

Diana Barry: They are perfectly pink and luscious.

Anne: Diana, you without a doubt have the best, most kissable Cupid's bow. The brightest smile to light any heart.

Ruby: Do you think that Prissy and Mr. Phillips have kissed?

Jane: Not yet. But soon, I imagine. Prissy's studying for her Queen's Academy entrance exams, and sometimes Mr. Phillips stops by our house to give her extra help.

Tillie Boulter: Prissy is only two years older than us.

Ruby: I mean to have an official beau by the time I'm 15. I hope Gilbert will be back by then.

Anne: You think of nothing but beaus, Ruby.

Ruby: Well, what's wrong with that?

Tillie: I've never even seen a real kiss before. My parents don't go in for that kind of thing.

Jane: I once overheard Mrs. Lynde and her husband share a kiss. It sounded like a cow dragging its hind hoof out of a swamp!

Diana: If someone were to kiss me, I'm afraid I would do something silly, or... forget to do something I should do. What are the rules? Why don't they teach kissing etiquette?

Anne: We could make a game. To see who could conduct the most romantic courtship. With brave knights, and enchanted princesses, and sorcerers and desperadoes! It'd be great practice. Diana, you can play the gallant young man.

Diana: Oh...

Anne: Prince Wisteria, wilt thou let fly the Feather of Fortune and choose thy heart-pure maiden?

Diana: I shall.

Tillie: Uh... Oh.

What should I do, Diana?

Anne: Tillie, you shouldn't talk to Prince Wisteria as though he were our friend Diana. It spoils the effect.

Tillie: I-I'm waiting for my handsome young prince to come and claim me.

Diana: Ahem. Ahem. Why, who is this fair and noble maiden?

Girl: Oh!

Anne: Why must the girl wait for the boy?

Diana: What?

Tillie: Anne!

Ruby: Are you mad?!

Anne: If I wanted to kiss a boy, couldn't I just... kiss him?

Girls: [off-screen] No! Anne!

Sebastian Lacroix: What of you? I like our change of plans, Doc. Canada. Excited to go.

Gilbert Blythe: You're daring, coming to this level of the deck. Fireman hears about you coming up here, you can expect trouble.

Bash: I can live down trouble. I want to see where I'm headed for once. Feel the wind on my face. Avonlea ahead of me. Ten years on this ship humpin' coal. I earned this. Besides, what they going to do? Sack me? Toss me overboard? Worst-case scenario, I get the latrine.

Gilbert: If my choices were that or latrine duty, I might take my chances with the Atlantic.

Bash: Choices. I like that word. Things are going to change startin' right now.

Gilbert: Yeah.

Anne: Have you ever noticed what cheerful things brooks are? They're always laughing.

Diana: How sweet!

Ruby: Hello.

Tillie: Hello.

Billy Andrews: Let's get 'em!

Ruby: Ah!

Billy: Bloomies! Knickers!

Anne: Ah!

[off-screen] Ah!

Anne: No! Stop!

Girl 1: Look at Princess Cordelia now.

Girl 2: We can see your bloomers.

Girl 3: Little scarecrow!

Anne: No!

Older Girl: Anne Shirley, you are the scrawniest, homeliest red-haired freckled witch that ever lived. No one will ever want you.

Anne: Keep your hands off!

Billy: Whoa.

Diana: You mustn't mind them, Anne. They're just boys being boys. They love to torment our lives out.

Anne: I do mind. I mind a great deal.

A skirt is not an invitation!

Diana: Anne, are you alright?

Mr. Phillips: Quiet, all of you. Settle down, ev... eryone.

Anne: I think Diana made a very convincing prince.

Ruby: Me, too.

Diana: I was going for daring, dashing, and a little bit wicked.

Ruby: Well, who needs real boys when we have Prince Wisteria?

Josie Pye: What are you talking about?

Ruby: Anne invited us over for an afternoon of parlor games.

Josie: All of you?

Parlor games? Without boys? Fine for you. I'm far too mature for such childish amusements.

Ruby: [whispering] Billy.

Mr. Phillips: Prissy.

Prissy Andrews: Mother is so very pleased that you are aiding and abetting my higher education.

When you squeezed my hand in secret, I too felt it was a pity we were not alone.

Mr. Phillips: Yes, well, um... I-I'd better...

Prissy: Of course. I'm due at home.

Mr. Phillips: Hmm.

Prissy: See you tomorrow.

Josie: Whomever the bottle points to... you are permitted to kiss. It needs to be boy, girl, boy, girl.

Billy: Where does that leave Cole?

Josie: Jane, go sit next to your dumb brother. Tillie, you're over there. And, Anne, switch places with Charlie.

Billy doesn't know anything about anything. I'm glad you're here.

Cole Mackenzie: Didn't have much of a choice.

Josie: Who would like to spin first?

Charlie: Diana!

Diana: Uh...

Josie: Moody.

Moody Spurgeon: Me?

Josie: Now you have to kiss. On the mouth.

Diana: Ahem. Good afternoon, Moody.

Moody: Good afternoon, Diana. I'm going to kiss you now.

Josie: Your turn, Anne.

Billy: I'm out. No way. Ugly orphan.

Older Girl: [flashback voice] No one will ever want you.

Josie: What are you afraid of, Anne? I seem to recall you knowing a lot about intimate relations.

Older Girl: [flashback voice] You are the scrawniest, homeliest, red-haired freckled witch that ever lived.

Josie: You're from unfortunate circumstances.

Older Girl: [flashback voice] No one will ever want you.

Josie: This can't be your first kiss.

Older Girl: [flashback voice] Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! Freak. Squeak! Freak!

Josie: Anne? Ever been kissed... Anne?

Anne: Ye... No!

Diana: Anne!

Diana: Anne! Anne. Why did you run, Anne?

Anne: That Josie Pye! For someone with such a lack of imagination, she certainly knows how to invent cruel and unusual forms of torture! Why should I be forced to give an expression of tenderness to indifferent or, in some cases, repulsive persons?

Diana: Billy wasn't very nice at all. I'm sorry he hurt your feelings.

Anne: The whole thing hurts everyone's feelings. It's not conducive!

Diana: Con... ducive?

Anne: To understanding anything about romance.

Anne: Well, at least the snow is romantical.

Diana: Just as I was leaving, Moody pulled me aside and told me that my kiss was like fresh butter. You have to admit that's rather romantic.

Anne: It's different for you, Diana, because everyone wants to kiss you.

Jerry Baynard: Hello, Miss Barry.

Diana: Bonjour, Jerry.

Jerry: And she speaks French! You are the complete package.

Diana: Your dialect is very different from classic French. Can you understand me okay?

Jerry: I understand that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

Anne: Leave my friend alone, Jerry!

Diana: It's fine, Anne. He said I'm the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

Thank you, but you're very bold.

Anne: What does it feel like to be divinely beautiful, Diana?

Diana: That's very kind, but I'm not div...

Anne: No, you are. Please answer the question. I have to know.

Diana: Compliments are nice... but... I'd rather be smart.

Anne: What is the purpose of kissing?

Is it... supposed to feel good? "With one long kiss my whole soul through. My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew." Tennyson. But kissing reminds me more of a... mother bird feeding its baby. The thought... makes me queasy. And what is the perfect kiss? Is it really sweeter than honey cake? And if a kiss is such a big idea, then why is it such a small word? It should be long and difficult to say. I've been trying to think of a more appropriate name for it, but nothing gives me a thrill. I assume kissing should give you a thrill, but I'm afraid I'll never find out. Do you think one can have a tragical romance without ever being kissed?

Matthew Cuthbert: Well, now, um... I dunno.

Anne: Have either of you ever kissed anyone?

Matthew: I... I should, uh... barn.

Marilla Cuthbert: For pity's sake, Anne, hold your tongue. Show some propriety here at supper.

Anne: Sorry.

When would be a better time to ask?

Marilla: Some other time.

Gilbert: How was latrine duty, dear?

Bash: Boy, haul you tail.

Gilbert: Ugh! Argh! Ugh!

Bash: Still worth it. Have to make that hay while the sun shine. Ain't that what you farm boys say?

Gilbert: You know what else they say? Don't put the cart before the horse. This is gonna be a long few days.

Bash: Lucky for me, I can't smell it anymore.

Gilbert: Ugh. Ugh!

Anne: Ah, isn't it good to be alive on winter mornings like this?!

Marilla: Anne Shirley-Cuthbert! Goodness gracious, what's happened here?

Anne: It's decorative. For beauty's sake. Even birds have pretty plumage, Marilla.

Marilla: Plumage, fiddlesticks. Take all that out of your hair at once. You look ridiculous.

Anne: Marilla, please, please, let me wear them to school!

Marilla: For the land's sake, that's the last place you want to wear them, believe me.

Anne: I know you don't understand or imagine, but if you had red hair, you would want to cover it too!

Marilla: I do not condone unnecessary adornment. Off they come.

Anne: Marilla, how can you be so unfeeling?

Marilla: Years of practice. Now, you know I always mean what I say.

Anne: But I need to be beautiful.

Marilla: Enough of this foolishness. You'll take them out at once.

Anne: Ah! Ah.

Anne: I wish I were a tree. Then I would have different hair for every season. I would have pretty spring buds and a full head of blossoms in summer... vibrant autumn colors, and then...

Never mind.

Anne: What do you think?

Diana: Well... You hold your head with such an air.

Cole: Here. If you don't mind, I'd just make one or two adjustments. For balance. May I?

Diana: Ooh, that'll look divine, Anne.

Cole: Um, Diana, could you...?

Diana: Oh.

Cole: Sorry everyone's staring at us.

Ruby: I didn't think Cole could do that.

Anne: How I wish we were doing recitations today, when appearance is of paramount importance.

Cole: Recitations... are the purest form of torture.

Anne: Torture?! You can't be serious.

Cole: Standing up in front of a classroom, everyone staring at me?

Anne: That's the whole joy of it!

Cole: No joy at all. It's like being under a microscope. I just feel... too... tall, too seen, too... weird.

Diana: Oh, it's beautiful, Cole!

Mr. Phillips: Ahem. Cole Mackenzie!

Since you seem to have such... feminine proclivities, we shall indulge your taste of it this morning. You can sit with the girls.

Billy: What? No, no...

Marilla: The egg goes in when it's off the heat.

Rachel: Can't believe you're sharing your secret recipe after all these years.

Marilla: Nothing stays the same forever.

I... I wonder if you might offer me some advice, Rachel.

Rachel: I knew it. As soon as you invited me over, I said to Thomas: "Something must be vexing Marilla. Since when does she need my help making her own matchless plum puffs?"

Marilla: Children. They get older. Anne has started asking about...

Rachel: The dreaded questions.

Marilla: She is preoccupied with kissing, of all things.

I admit, I'm a woman of narrow experience on this matter.

Rachel: You've certainly taken on a great responsibility, Marilla. That Anne is full of original sin. A young girl shouldn't be asking such questions. Let her know what's what. "Spare the rod and spoil the child." That's what I say.

Marilla: If I whacked the child every time she asked me a slew of questions, she'd be black and blue.

Rachel: She's an inquisitive little thing. And at this age, you have got to lay down the ground rules, and lay them down hard.

Marilla: Over kissing?

Rachel: I've brought up ten children and buried two, and they'd all testify to the efficiency of my methods.

Marilla: I've no doubt.

Rachel: Of course, folks that have raised children know that you've got to expect the unexpected when it comes to flesh and blood. I recall a time I came home to find my eldest, Thomas Jr., setting fire to the drapes. Nothing a birch switch couldn't cure.

Marilla: Was that before or after he burned down your shed?

Marilla: Rachel does have the effect of making you want to do the complete opposite of what she suggests.

Would you stop that infernal racket?! I can't hear myself think.

I don't believe I could whip a child. But sometimes I think Anne is possessed. A moment ago she called turning 14 "a solemn occasion." And now it's this kissing business, tying bows in her hair, vain as a peacock. What are we going to do about it?

Matthew: I promised you I wouldn't put my oar in.

Marilla: Well, I could use another oar now! I'm rowing around in circles.

Matthew: Well, now... I don't see the harm in her being curious.

Marilla: Matthew Cuthbert, I don't understand you.

Matthew: I seem to remember... with you and John Blythe...

Marilla: Yes.

Matthew: Wasn't there a stolen kiss or two?

Marilla: How would you know? No one stole anything.

What do you suggest?

Matthew: Well... I mean, if we want to do right by Anne, I reckon that means seeing that she has a fuller life... than us.

Give... Gotcha.

Anne: Mr. Phillips had no right to insult you like that. I'm sorry you had to endure it.

Cole: It's fine.

Anne: It's scandalous.

Cole: He's never liked me.

Anne: He doesn't seem to like anyone. Except Prissy.

Cole: You noticed that I always seem to get detention for no other reason than I'm...

Anne: What? You're what, Cole?

Cole: Different.

Anne: There's nothing wrong with different. I'm unusual, too. And that's why we're kindred. You're unique.

Cole: I don't want to be unique. Unique means weird.

Anne: I think it means... singular and extraordinary.

Cole: Well, I'd rather be ordinary.

Anne: I feel that way sometimes too. But an ordinary person wouldn't be a brilliant artist.

Cole: I'm not, but thanks.

Marilla: How was the beauty contest? I mean, school.

Anne, what did I say about your hair?

Anne: I know, but my friend Cole styled it for me and did such a lovely job that I just had to leave it.

Marilla: Perhaps one day you'll grow into a style like that, but for now I'll thank you to restore yourself to yourself.

Anne: I know it's foolish to want to be anything other than what I am, but I can't help it. I love... pretty things.

Mm. I hate when I look in the glass and I see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful, just as I feel when I see any ugly thing. I pity it because it's not beautiful.

Marilla: Well, I have something that might cheer you up. We received a letter today. From Gilbert Blythe.

Anne: Oh! Oh, Marilla! I'd forgotten about my foreign correspondence! Trinidad! I imagined that I was writing to some far-flung corner of the world, but nowhere this intriguing.

"Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert." How wonderful! Look at that, Marilla!

Marilla: I saw. Do try to learn to take things calmly, child.

Anne: How can I be calm when I've never seen my name written with "Miss" before?

Marilla: Well, open it.

Anne: There's nothing romantical about this letter, nothing whatsoever.

Marilla: You wrote to him about the gold, as I recall.

Anne: Yes, that's exactly right. I wonder what he said.

Diana: Not returning to Avonlea?

Anne: "Indefinitely."

Diana: When did he send it?

Anne: It was posted three weeks ago from Port of Spain, in Trinidad.

Diana: You could write him back. With your knack for words, I'm sure you could convince him.

Anne: Well, considering "there's gold in Avonlea" didn't change his mind almost makes me grateful that there wasn't. Wouldn't it have been a personal mortification if he had to leave his exotic port-of-call?

Diana: True enough. In that way I suppose it's all worked out for the best.

Anne: Besides, if I were to write him again, which I most certainly won't, it would be to tell him that there's no "A" in "indefinitely."

Diana: Maybe that was on purpose. Maybe he wants to be pen pals.

Anne: If he's challenging me to a long-distance duel, I will not engage.

Diana: I believe he spelled that word wrong last year. Engage.

Anne: Engagement. But I... I don't quite recall.

Diana: Ruby will have an affliction. Let's give this to her to keep.

Anne: What? Why?

Diana: For her to cry over? Unless... you don't want to.

Billy: What's this? "Dear Anne, it's very nice to hear..."

Anne: Stop! Stop it! Just give it back!

Billy: What am I...

Ooh... what a gentleman.

Pfft. Just more girl stuff.

Mr. Phillips: Why are you still here?!

Gilbert: Oh! Ugh.

Bash: Boy, what you doing here?

Gilbert: Fireman sure hates my singing.

Bash: You got yourself in trouble so you could come help me?

Gilbert: Here. Hurry. Put some of this under your nose. It'll help the smell. Allow me. One of our neighbors back home is a pig farmer.

Bash: Thyme. Trinidadian bush medicine? Nice trick, Doc.

Gilbert: Self-preservation.

Bash: We have a saying: "This plant don't ask to grow." Thyme's hardy, yeah? Doesn't need minding. Grows where other plants cannot. Hopefully like me, in Avonlea.

Gilbert: Two more days. Still worth it?

Bash: Get to work.

Gilbert: Ugh.