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So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

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Argue Arguing Much Perfection Rottenness Somewhere

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child.
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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.
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Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some chamomile tea: “One table-spoonful to be taken at bedtime.
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Sunday, January 27, 1884. — There was another story in the paper a week or so since.
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Mrs. Tiggy-winkle’s hand, holding the tea-cup, was very very brown, and very very wrinkly with the soap-suds; and all through her gown and her cap, there were HAIRPINS sticking wrong end out; so that Lucie didn’t like to sit too near her.
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I have just made stories to please myself, because I never grew up.
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Once upon a time there were three kittens, and their names were Mitten, Tom Kitten, and Moppet. They had dear little fur coats of their own; and they tumbled about the doorstep and played in the dust.
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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.
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When gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta – there lived a tailor in Gloucester.
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This is a fierce bad rabbit; look at his savage whiskers, and his claws and his turned-up tail.
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I do so hate finishing books. I would like to go on with them for years.
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Everything was romantic in my imagination.
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All outward forms of religion are almost useless, and are the causes of endless strife.
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I hold that a strongly marked personality can influence descendants for generations.
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For quiet, solitary and observant children create their own world and live in it, nourishing their imaginations on the material at hand.
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I hold an old-fashioned notion that a happy marriage is the crown of a woman’s life.
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Peter lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.
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I think if she lived in A little shoe-house That little old woman was Surely a mouse!
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I am worn to a raveling.
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I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding
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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.
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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.
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We cannot stay home all our lives, we must present ourselves to the world and we must look upon it as an adventure.
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Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.
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With opportunity the world is very interesting.
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I think prejudice and tradition count for three-quarters in matters of religion.
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Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality.
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Education Goodness Learning Memorable never School Thank

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