This is a fierce bad rabbit; look at his savage whiskers, and his claws and his turned-up tail.
BEATRIX POTTERI have just made stories to please myself, because I never grew up.
More Beatrix Potter Quotes
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Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.
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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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What we call the highest and the lowest in nature are both equally perfect. A willow bush is as beautiful as the human form divine.
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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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Sunday, January 27, 1884. — There was another story in the paper a week or so since.
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There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.
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With opportunity the world is very interesting.
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What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense…
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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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Everything was romantic in my imagination.
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One day puss did not take his place punctually, but presently appeared with two mice, one of which it placed on its master’s plate, the other on its own.
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All outward forms of religion are almost useless, and are the causes of endless strife.
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In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets.
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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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Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were–Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter.
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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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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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I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child.
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I have just made stories to please myself, because I never grew up.
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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 fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding
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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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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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So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.
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Then Mrs. Tiggy-winkle made tea – a cup for herself and a cup for Lucie. They sat before the fire on a bench and looked sideways at one another.
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It sometimes happens that the town child is more alive to the fresh beauty of the country than a child who is country born
BEATRIX POTTER