He Was A Poet; And They Are

All Children, Except One, Grow Up. They Soon Know That They Will Grow Up, And The Way Wendy Knew Was This. One Day When She Was Two Years Old She Was Playing In A Garden, And She Plucked Another Flower And Ran With It To Her Mother. I Suppose She Must Have Looked Rather Delightful, For Mrs Darling Put Her Hand To Her Heart And Cried, ‘oh, Why Can’t You Remain Like This For Ever!’ This Was All That Passed Between Them On The Subject, But Henceforth Wendy Knew That She Must Grow Up. You Always Know After You Are Two. Two Is The Beginning Of The End.

Strength Instead Of Being The Lusty Child Of Passion, Grows By Grappling With And Subduing Them.

Peter: Oh, The Cleverness Of Me. Wendy: Of Course, I Did Nothing... Peter: You Did A Little. Wendy: Oh, The Cleverness Of You.

I Am The Best There Ever Was!

We Should Be Slower To Think That The Man At His Worst Is The Real Man, And Certain That The Better We Are Ourselves The Less Likely Is He To Be At His Worst In Our Company. Every Time He Talks Away His Own Character Before Us He Is Signifying Contempt For Ours.