It's the fools that make all the trouble in the world, not the wicked.

It was less humiliating to admit crying because of your feet than because - because somebody had been amusing himself with you and your friends had forgotten you, and other people patronised you.

But she had long ago learned that when she wandered into the realm of fancy she must go alone. The way to it was by an enchanted path where not even her dearest might follow her.

That's the worst of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them.

...a little "appreciation" sometimes does quite as much good as all the conscientious "bringing up" in the world.

I have a little brown cocoon of an idea that may possibly expand into a magnificent moth of fulfilment.

if I can't get what I want - well, I'll want what I can get.