If I were younger, I'd know more.

He was a little boy, and she was grown up. She huddled by the fire not daring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman.

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

I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.

All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.

Every living thing was shunning him. Poor little Peter Pan, he sat down and cried, and even then he did not know that, for a bird, he was sitting on his wrong part. It is a blessing that he did not know, for otherwise he would have lost faith in his power to fly, and the moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it. The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.

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