J.M. Barrie Quotes - Page 2

Life is a long lesson in humility.

Peter was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzling rapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that got past his foe's defense, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home

The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.

Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John’s, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents...

It is glorious fun racing down the Hump, but you can't do it on windy days because then you are not there, but the fallen leaves do it instead of you. There is almost nothing that has such a keen sense of fun as a fallen leaf.

It is humiliating to have to confess that this conceit of Peter was one of his most fascinating qualities. To put it with brutal frankness, there never was a cockier boy.

He was top-heavy with conceit.

‎She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet smiles.

He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped, and now he saw that Mrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two tears were sitting on her eyes.'She wants me to unbar the window,' thought Peter, 'but I won't, not I!'He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two had taken their place.'She's awfully fond of Wendy,' he said to himself. He was angry with her now for not seeing why she could not have Wendy.The reason was so simple: 'I'm fond of her too. We can't both have her, lady.

Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.

Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.

Growing up is such a barbarous business, full of inconvenience... and pimples.

I'm not young enough to know everything.

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.

Good form without knowing it is the best form of all.

...and as she was crossing to the day-nursery he added thoughtlessly, 'And shut that window. I feel a draught.' 'O George, never ask me to do that. The window must always be left open for them, always, always.

He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also.

If you have it [love], you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have.

It is the custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can’t) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtinesses and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.