So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

Once upon a time there were three kittens, and their names were Mitten, Tom Kitten, and Moppet. They had dear little fur coats of their own; and they tumbled about the doorstep and played in the dust.

Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality.

I cannot rest, I must draw, however poor the result, and when I have a bad time come over me it is a stronger desire than ever.

I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense...

I have just made stories to please myself, because I never grew up.

I hold that a strongly marked personality can influence descendants for generations.