“ But this is your home''Not any longer, my poppet. Women make nests but men make bequests and scatter them. Heigh-ho! Joan Aiken
“ Eat an apple,sing a song,Don't touch a snake as it wriggles along.Run for an hour, walk for a day,Hark to the birds and heed what they say. Joan Aiken
“ Night's winged horsesNo one can outpaceBut midnight is no momentMidnight is a place.Meet me at Midnight,Among the Queen Anne's LaceMidnight is not a moment,Midnight is a place—When, when shall I meet… Joan Aiken
“ The silence behind her was closing and thickening, and becoming coloured, like water into which a brilliant dye is being poured Joan Aiken
“ She thought about Penny’s stories. There was one about a man who had three wishes and married a swan. If I had three wishes, know what wish for, thought Is. I’d wish for those two boys to be found,… Joan Aiken
“ The use of reading, Gibbon says somewhere, is to aid us in thinking. I have always disagreed with Gibbon over that; he may have used literature to help him think, but for me, often, and for most of th… Joan Aiken
“ It was dusk - winter dusk. Snow lay white and shining over the pleated hills, and icicles hung from the forest trees. Snow lay piled on the dark road across Willoughby Wold, but from dawn men had been… Joan Aiken
“ You may think it odd that there were three men to look after one tiny station, but the people who ran the railway knew that if you left two men together in a lonely place they would quarrel, but if yo… Joan Aiken
“ They came to the high stone shaft with the face of Sul; they descended to the terrace below. And here Caradog waited, leaning on his silver-tipped rod and eying the horizon, until the delicate slip of… Joan Aiken
“ He paused a moment, gazing in awe at the huge mass of buildings composing the castle. It stood close to the river, on either side and to the rear stretched the extensive park and gardens, filled with… Joan Aiken
“ When the Whispering Mountain shall scream aloudAnd the castle of Malyn ride on a cloud,Then Malyn's lord shall have and holdThe lost that is found, the harp of gold.Then Fig-hat Ben shall wear a shrou… Joan Aiken
