Mistress Mary, quite contrary,How does your garden grow?With Silver Bells, and Cockle Shells,And marigolds all in a row.
It's so different to be a sparrow. But nobody asked this rat if he wanted to be a rat when he was made. Nobody said, 'Wouldn't you rather be a sparrow?
It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.
It was so new and big and wonderful and such a heavenly color.
It was really a very simple thing, after all,—it was only that he had lived near a kind and gentle heart, and had been taught to think kind thoughts always and to care for others. It is a very little...
If there was time only for a few words, they were always friendly, merry words that put heart into one; and if there was time for more, then there was an installment of a story to be told, or some oth...
If tha’ was a missel thrush an’ showed me where thy nest was, does tha’ think I’d tell any one? Not me, he said. Tha’ art as safe as a missel thrush.And she was quite sure she was.
I've seen the spring now and I'm going to see the summer. I'm going to see everything grow here. I'm going to grow here myself. That
I wouldn’t want to make it look like a gardener’s garden, all clipped an’ spick an’ span, would you? he said. It’s nicer like this with things runnin’ wild, an’ swingin’ an’ catchin’ hold of each othe...
I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sence enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us - like electricity and horses and steam.
However many years she lived, Mary always felt that 'she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow'.
Everything is made out of Magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us.
EVERYTHING'S a story. You are a story—I am a story.
At this moment she was remembering the voyage she had just made from Bombay with her father, Captain Crewe. She was thinking of the big ship, of the Lascars passing silently to and fro on it, of the c...
At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not d...
As she sat down in one of the stiff mahogany chairs, Sara cast one of her quick looks about her.I don’t like it, papa, she said. But then I dare say soldiers--even brave ones--don’t really going into...
And, as to her papa, there is nothing so grand in being an Indian officer.
At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done then they begin to hope it can be done then they see it can be done-then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not do...
So red, indeed, that she almost looked as if tears were coming into her poor, dull, childish eyes;
Her power of telling stories and of making everything she talked about seem like a story, whether it was one or not.