So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful, toddling thing she was kept out of the way also.
I was thinking,” she said. “Beg my pardon immediately,” said Miss Minchin. “I will beg your pardon for laughing, if it was rude,” said Sara; “but I won’t beg your pardon for thinking.
It was so new and big and wonderful and such a heavenly color.
One of her favorite fancies was that on “the outside”, as she called it, thoughts were waiting for people to call them.
Perhaps it is the key to the garden!
It sounds nicer than it seems in the book,” she would say. “I never cared about Mary, Queen of Scots, before, and I always hated the French Revolution, but you make it seem like a story.” “It is a story,” Sara would answer. “They are all stories. Everything is a story – everything in this world. You are a story – I am a story – Miss Minchin is a story. You can make a story out of anything.
Scientific people are always curious and I am going to be scientific.
Sara curled herself up in the window-seat, opened a book, and began to read. It was a book about the French Revolution, and she was soon lost in a harrowing picture of the prisoners in the Bastille – men who had spent so many years in dungeons that when they were dragged out by those who rescued them, their long, gray hair and beards almost hid their faces, and they had forgotten that an outside world existed at all, and were like beings in a dream. She was so far away from the schoolroom that.
She was so happy that she scarcely dared to breathe.
You are real, aren’t you?” he said. “I have such real dreams very often. You might be one of them.
When a man is very good and knows a great deal, he is elected president.
It had never occurred to his honest, simple little mind that there were people who could forget kindnesses.
And Dickon helped him, and the Magic – or whatever it was – so gave him strength that when the sun did slip over the edge and end the strange lovely afternoon for them there he actually stood on his two feet – laughing.
She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn’t read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl.
She felt as if she had lived a long, long time.
So she began to feel a slight interest in Dickon, and as she had never before been interested in any one but herself, it was the dawning of a healthy sentiment. When.
And it was then he spoke about the broken Link – and about the greatest books in the world – that in all their different ways, they were only saying over and over again one thing thousands of times. Just this thing – ‘Hate not, Fear not, Love.’ And he said that was Order. And when it was disturbed, suffering came – poverty and misery and catastrophe and wars.
Mrs. Medlock, knowing Ben had come from the gardens, hoped that he might have caught sight of his master and even by chance of his meeting with Master Colin. “Did you see either of them, Weatherstaff?” she asked.
If I was a princess-a real princess,” she murmured, “I could scatter largess to the populace. But even if i am only a pretend princess, I can invent little things to do for the people. Things like this. She was just as happy as if it was largess. I’ll pretend that doing things that people like is scattering largess. I’ve scattered largess.
And delight reigned.