All Children, Except One, Grow Up.

..children Know Such A Lot Now, They Soon Don't Believe In Fairies, And Every Time A Child Says, 'i Don't Believe In Fairies,' There Is A Fairy Somewhere That Falls Down Dead.

I'll Teach You How To Jump On The Wind's Back, And Then Away We Go.

Will They Reach The Nursery In Time? If So, How Delightful For Them, And We Shall All Breathe A Sigh Of Relief, But There Will Be No Story. On The Other Hand, If They Are Not In Time, I Solemnly Promise That It Will All Come Right In The End.

Peter: Oh, The Cleverness Of Me. Wendy: Of Course, I Did Nothing... Peter: You Did A Little. Wendy: Oh, The Cleverness Of You.

The Best Of Our Fiction Is By Novelists Who Allow That It Is As Good As They Can Give, And The Worst By Novelists Who Maintain That They Could Do Much Better If Only The Public Would Let Them.