There was a dish of salt for everyone to dip their eggs into. ‘I don’t know why, but the meals we have on picnics always taste so much nicer than the ones we have indoors,’ said George.
ENID BLYTONElizabeth. Only the strongest people have the pluck to change their minds, and say so, if they see they have been wrong in their ideas.
More Enid Blyton Quotes
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You’re trying to escape from your difficulties, and there never is any escape from difficulties, never. They have to be faced and fought.
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All the children stood and gazed at it, loving it and longing to go to it. It looked so secret – almost magic.
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Elizabeth. Only the strongest people have the pluck to change their minds, and say so, if they see they have been wrong in their ideas.
ENID BLYTON -
I don’t believe in things like that – fairies or brownies or magic or anything. It’s old-fashioned.’ ‘
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The point is not that I don’t recognise bad people when I see them – I grant you I may quite well be taken in by them – the point is that I know a good person when I see one.
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Laugh at them, tread on them, and let them lead you to something better.
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My work in books, films and talks lies almost wholly with children, and I have very little time to give to grown-ups.
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It was the most beautiful evening, with the lake as blue as a cornflower and the sky flecked with rosy clouds. They held their hard-boiled eggs in one hand and a piece of bread and butter in the other, munching happily.
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A clown needn’t be the same out of the ring as he has to be when he’s in it. If you look at photographs of clowns when they’re just being ordinary men, they’ve got quite sad faces.
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The children gazed in delight. Nothing but trees and birds and little wild animals. Oh, what a secret island, all for their very own, to live on and play on.
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I’m good at exploring roofs. You never know when that kind of thing comes in useful.
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The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful.
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I get over a hundred letters a day from all over the world, from children and parents, and it’s a wonder I ever have time to write books, let alone speak!
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As they drew near to it, and saw the willow trees that bent over the water-edge and heard the sharp call of moorhens that scuttled off,
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Writing for children is an art in itself, and a most interesting one.
ENID BLYTON