So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

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

Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.

Most people, after one success, are so cringingly afraid of doing less well that they rub all the edge off their subsequent work.

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...

In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets - when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta - there lived a tailor in Gloucester.