“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.”

Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality.

It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is ‘soporific’.

I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding

When gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta – there lived a tailor in Gloucester.

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.

I do so hate finishing books. I would like to go on with them for years.

For quiet, solitary and observant children create their own world and live in it, nourishing their imaginations on the material at hand.

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.

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.

Here comes Peter Cottontail right down the bunny trail.

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.

It sometimes happens that the town child is more alive to the fresh beauty of the country than a child who is country born..

What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense…

Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were–Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter.

I think if she lived in A little shoe-house That little old woman was Surely a mouse!

This is a fierce bad rabbit; look at his savage whiskers, and his claws and his turned-up tail.

As long as the marks are related to one another, there is unity. Unity in the work itself depends on unity of the artist’s vision.

If it is not, why make laws for its punishment? And if it is, by what barbarous logic do you, to punish it, duplicate it by another crime?

Why abandon a seat in your own home to wander in vain through dusty regions of another land? If you make one false step, you miss what is right before your eyes.

One clings to life although there is nothing to be called life; another clings to death although there is nothing to be called death. In reality, there is nothing to be born; consequently, there is nothing to perish.

And thus I aspire to preach the gospel, not where Christ was already named so that I would not build on another man’s foundation.

Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another.

So, then, let us pursue the things making for peace and the things that are upbuilding to one another.

Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person.