The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery

I read this almost in one sitting and it was like balm on my soul. Very predictable story, but filled with well-drawn characters and beautiful images. Sometimes it's nice to read a book with a happy ending :)

"'There is no such thing as freedom on earth,' he said. 'Only different kinds of bondages. And comparative bondages. You think you are free now because you've escaped from a peculiarly unbearable kind of bondage. But are you? You love me -- that's a bondage.'

'Who said or wrote that "the prison unto which we doom ourselves no prison is"?' asked Valancy dreamily, clinging to his arm as they climbed up the rock steps.

'Ah, now you have it,' said Barney. 'That's all the freedom we can hope for -- the freedom to choose our prison. But, Moonlight' -- he stopped at the door of the Blue Castle and looked about him -- at the glorious lake, the great, shadowy woods, the bonfires, the twinkling lights -- 'Moonlight, I'm glad to be home again. When I came down through the woods and saw my home lights -- mine -- gleaming out under the old pines -- something I'd never seen before -- oh, girl, I was glad -- glad!'

But in spite of Barney's doctrine on bondage, Valancy thought they were splendidly free. It was amazing to be able to sit up half the night and look at the moon if you wanted to. To be late for meals if you wanted to -- she who had always been rebuked so sharply by her mother and so reproachfully by Cousin Stickles if she were one minute late. Dawdle over meals as long as you wanted to. Leave your crusts if you wanted to. Not come home at all for meals if you wanted to. Sit on a sun-warm rock and paddle your bare feet in the hot sand if you wanted to. Just sit and do nothing in the beautiful silence if you wanted to. In short, do any fool thing you wanted to whenever the notion took you. If that wasn't freedom, what was?" (154-155)

"...white birches shining among the dark spruces like beautiful women's bodies -- winter snows and rose-red sunset fires -- lakes drunken with moonshine..." (205)

"She recalled all his friendly looks and quips and jests -- his little compliments -- his caresses. She counted them all over as a woman might count her jewels -- not one did she miss from the first day they had met." (205)

(1926. New York: Bantom, 1989)