The fairies, as their custom, clapped their hands with delight over their cleverness, and they were so madly in love with the little house that they could not bear to think they had finished it.
All are keeping a sharp look-out in front, but none suspects that the danger may be creeping up from behind.
Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars.
The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.
The praise that comes of love does not make us vain, but humble rather. Knowing what we are, the pride that shines in our mother’s eyes as she looks at us is about the most pathetic thing a man has to face, but he would be a devil altogether if it did not burn some of the sin out of him.
He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up.
It is frightfully difficult to know much about the fairies, and almost the only thing for certain is that there are fairies wherever there are children.
They have long lost count of the days, but always if they want to do anything special they say this is saturday night, and then they do it.
I think it’s perfectly lovely the way you talk about girls...
Fame is rot; daughters are the thing.
Off we skip like the most heartless things in the world, which is what children are, but so attractive; and we have an entirely selfish time, and then when we have need of special attention we nobly return for it, confident that we shall be rewarded instead of smacked.
Strength instead of being the lusty child of passion, grows by grappling with and subduing them.
If I were younger, I’d know more.
You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.
She was a large woman who seemed not so much dressed as upholstered.
A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man awoke in the night.
Men’s second childhood begins when a woman gets a hold of him.
One’s religion is whatever he is most interested in.
But the years came and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met again Wendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys.
Would you like an adventure now, or would like to have your tea first?