Our heroine knew that the mother would always leave the window open for her children to fly back by; so they stayed away for years and had a lovely time.

Second to the right, and straight on till morning.' That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland; but even birds, carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners, could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just said anything that came into his head.

Do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life which has come to you by the grace of God. Not in doing what you like but in liking what you do is the secret of happiness.

The best of our fiction is by novelists who allow that it is as good as they can give, and the worst by novelists who maintain that they could do much better if only the public would let them.

A moment after the fairy's entrance the window was blown open by the breathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in.

The door', replied Maimie, 'will always, always be open, and mother will always be waiting at it for me.

If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up! Not me!