I wasn’t crying about mothers,” he said rather indignantly. “I was crying because I can’t get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn’t crying.
He swore this terrible oath: ‘Hook or me this time.’ Now.
I want always to be a little boy and to have fun.
Why does everyone want to be something else? I love being me!
All this has happened before, and it will all happen again. But this time it happened in London. It happened on a quiet street in Bloomsbury. That corner house over there is the home of the Darling family. And Peter Pan chose this particular house because there were people here who believed in him.
Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour;.
You ladies who are everything to your husbands, save a girl from the dream of youth, have you never known that double-chinned industrious man laugh suddenly in a reverie and start up, as if he fancied he were being hailed from far away?
Sitting on the rail at the foot of the bed, he played a beautiful lullaby to his mother on his pipe. He made it up himself out of the way she said “Peter,” and he never stopped playing until she looked happy.
And in the end, you know, he flew away. Twice he came back from the window, wanting to kiss his mother, but he feared the delight of it might waken her, so at last he played her a lovely kiss on his pipe, and then he flew back to the Gardens.
Oh, Maimie,” he said rapturously, “do you know why I love you? It is because you are like a beautiful nest.
Ahora nos vemos recompensados por nuestra fe sublime en el amor de una madre.
All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother.
The cry is answered by other braves; and some of them do it even better than the coyotes, who are not very good at it.
They live in nests on the tops of trees; and the mauve ones are boys and the white ones are girls, and the blue ones are just little sillies who are not sure what they are.
Wendy, I ran away the day I was born.
It is a an astounding thing to have to tell, but this man, though he knew about stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Sometimes the thing yielded to him without contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride and used a made-up tie.
You must be nice to him,′ Wendy impressed on her brothers. ‘What could we do if he were to leave us?
Sometimes he poised himself in the air, listening intently with his hand to his ear, and again he would stare down with eyes so bright that they seemed to bore two holes to earth.
To grow up would be a great adventure.
If you knew how great is a mother’s love,′ Wendy told them triumphantly, ’you would have no fear.
He was glad no one asked him what first impressions are; they were all too busy looking their best.