Boy, why are you crying?

I suppose it's like the ticking crocodile, isn't it? Time is chasing after all of us.

Boy, why are you crying?

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.

Take care, lest an adventure is now offered you, which, if accepted, will plunge you in deepest woe.

Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade.

Some day,' said Smee, 'the clock will run down, and then he'll get you.' Hook wetted his dry lips, 'Aye,' he said, 'that's the fear that haunts me.