She did not believe he could have really gone, because for her, to leave the person you loved was impossible.
The door', replied Maimie, 'will always, always be open, and mother will always be waiting at it for me.
David tells me that fairies never say 'We feel happy': what they say is, 'We feel dancey'.
My name is Mr Bread." He began writing his name neatly on the board. "But you can call me Peter."
Suddenly there was quiet, as thirty little brains whirred.
"Pita Bread!" proclaimed a ginger-haired boy from the back.
Memories hold you back; their weight crushes your spirit.
He tousled Baby's hair, then looked up at Tiger Lily. "The woods have rules." He put Baby down gingerly in his trough with his bottle. "But the rules are ugly."
"It's nature," she said, thoughtfully.
"I have a lot of disagreements with nature," he said, looking confused, and his downy brow wrinkled over his eyes.
The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.
Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.
She asked where he lived.
Second to the right,' said Peter, 'and then straight on till morning.
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.
To live would be an awfully big adventure.
We’d never talked about his parents, like he was some underwater Peter Pan.
Because I think people must be the same everywhere. Only these people are in my bones.
...One cannot help but consider the future- what will it be like when all the wild places of the earth have been taken over by civilization, and there is no more room for Indians, Pirates, and Wild Boys?
Don't be afraid to grow up, Peter. It's only a trap if you forget how to fly.
I know that some people disparage you for your lack of knowledge, and I know you may not understand me, Peter, but I wish you could, because you might be the only person who would. I feel that I can tell you anything Peter.
He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up.
Tell me a story,' demanded Fireflyer.
'Why? Do you eat them, too, then?'
'Only the ohs and ayes and ees and oos. The Kays are too spikey and the zeds are too buzzzy and the ones with the dots get stuck in your teeth and the esses sometimes slide down inside your vest and tickle.
We built that Wendy House our own selves, for Wendy! And you can't keep a Wendy out of her own Wendy House!