You find a glimmer of happiness in this world, there's always someone who wants to destroy it.

A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man awoke in the night.

Some of my plays peter out and some pan out.

You were hidden behind walls of ice; no man had passed them; I broke them down and love leapt to love, and you lie here, my beautiful, love in the arms of its lover.

Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.

The fairies, as their custom, clapped their hands with delight over their cleverness, and they were so madly in love with the little house that they could not bear to think they had finished it.

I taught you to fight and to fly. What more could there be?