Oh, you mysterious girls, when you are fifty-two we shall find you out; you must come into the open then. If the mouth has fallen sourly yours the blame: all the meanness your youth concealed have been gathering in your face. But the pretty thoughts and sweet ways and dear, forgotten kindnesses linger there also, to bloom in your twilight like evening primroses.
James M. BarrieIn time they could not even fly after their hats. Want of practice, they called it; but what it really meant was that they no longer believed.
James M. Barrie