Peter: Oh, The Cleverness Of Me. Wendy:

Our Life Is A Book To Which We Add Daily, Until Suddenly We Are Finished, And Then The Manuscript Is Burned.

For Several Days After My First Book Was Published, I Carried It About In My Pocket And Took Surreptitious Peeps At It To Make Sure The Ink Had Not Faded.

She Was A Large Woman Who Seemed Not So Much Dressed As Upholstered.

You Must Have Been Warned Against Letting The Golden Hours Slip By; But Some Of Them Are Golden Only Because We Let Them Slip By.

I Don’t Want To Go To School And Learn Solemn Things. I Don’t Want To Be A Man.