All outward forms of religion are almost useless, and are the causes of endless strife.
BEATRIX POTTERThank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.
More Beatrix Potter Quotes
-
-
We cannot stay home all our lives, we must present ourselves to the world and we must look upon it as an adventure.
BEATRIX POTTER -
Thank goodness my education was neglected.
BEATRIX POTTER -
The place is changed now, and many familiar faces are gone, but the greatest change is myself.
BEATRIX POTTER -
I do so hate finishing books. I would like to go on with them for years.
BEATRIX POTTER -
What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense…
BEATRIX POTTER -
Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality.
BEATRIX POTTER -
I am worn to a raveling.
BEATRIX POTTER -
The woods were peopled by the mysterious good folk. The Lords and Ladies of the last century walked with me along the overgrown paths, and picked the old fashioned flowers among the box and rose hedges of the garden.
BEATRIX POTTER -
I cannot rest, I must draw, however poor the result, and when I have a bad time come over me it is a stronger desire than ever.
BEATRIX POTTER -
Most people, after one success, are so cringingly afraid of doing less well that they rub all the edge off their subsequent work.
BEATRIX POTTER -
A gentleman had a favourite cat whom he taught to sit at the dinner table where it behaved very well. He was in the habit of putting any scraps he left onto the cat’s plate.
BEATRIX POTTER -
I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding
BEATRIX POTTER -
Thank God I have the seeing eye, that is to say, as I lie in bed I can walk step by step on the fells and rough land seeing every stone and flower and patch of bog and cotton pass where my old legs will never take me again.
BEATRIX POTTER -
There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.
BEATRIX POTTER -
Sunday, January 27, 1884. — There was another story in the paper a week or so since.
BEATRIX POTTER