If you tell stories, you like nothing so much as to tell them to people who want to listen.
Poor little thin, sallow, ugly Mary – she actually looked almost pretty for a moment.
Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words and everything in the world understands it.
I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They’re still princesses.
The robin flew from his swinging spray of ivy on to the top of the wall and he opened his beak and sang a loud, lovely trill, merely to show off. Nothing in the world is quite as adorably lovely as a robin when he shows off – and they are nearly always doing it.
When a man looks at the stars, he grows calm and forgets small things. They answer his questions and show him that his earth is only one of the million worlds. Hold your soul still and look upward often, and you will understand their speech. Never forget the stars.
The mug from the washstand was used as Becky’s tea cup, and the tea was so delicious that it was not necessary to pretend that it was anything but tea.
As long as you have a garden you have a future and as long as you have a future you are alive.
And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.
She liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things and telling them to herself.
You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you’re too curious.
I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sense enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us.
All women are princesses, it is our right.
Children’s as good as ‘rithmetic to set you findin’ out things.
There is naught a man or woman can not learn who hath the wit.
That’s what I look at some people for. I like to know about them. I think them over afterward.
You either build up or you tear down. You either keep in the light where you can see, or you stand in the dark and fight everything that comes near you, because you can’t see and you think it’s an enemy.
If Sara had been a boy and lived a few centuries ago, her father used to say, ’she would have gone about the country with her sword drawn, rescuing and defending everyone in distress. She always wants to fight when she sees people in trouble.
Her affection for everything she could love increased.
There’s nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in – that’s stronger. It’s a good thing not to answer your enemies. I scarcely ever do.