...it was like an examination paper that asks grammar, when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.

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.

Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.

A safe but sometimes chilly way of recalling the past is to force open a crammed drawer. If you are searching for anything in particular you don't find it, but something falls out at the back that is often more interesting.

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.

The best place a person can die, is where they die for others.

Heaven for climate, Hell for company.