Novelists From Scotland

"All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end."

"If he could get the hang of the thing his cry might become To live would be an awfully big adventure! but he can never quite the hang of it..."

"Dark and sinister man, have at thee."

"Proud and insolent youth, prepare to meet thy doom."

"I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg."

"Split my infinitives, but 'tis my hour of triumph!"

"I just want always to be a little boy and have fun."

"Do you believe in fairies?...If you believe, clap your hands!"

"To die will be an awfully big adventure."

"You just think lovely wonderful thoughts and they lift you up in the air."

"I'll teach you to jump on the wind's back and then away we go."

"Second to the right and then straight on till morning."

"Wendy, one girl is worth more than twenty boys."

""In twenty years," I said, smiling at her tears, "a man grows humble, Mary. I have stored within me a great fund of affection, with nobody to give it to, and I swear to you, on the word of a soldier, that if there is one of those ladies who can be got to care for me I shall be very proud." Despite her semblance of delight I knew that she was wondering at me, and I wondered at myself, but it was true."

"Wise children always choose a mother who was a shocking flirt in her maiden days, and so had several offers before she accepted their fortunate papa."

"When you were a bird you knew the fairies pretty well, and you remember a good deal about them in your babyhood, which it is a great pity you can't write down, for gradually you forget, and I have heard of children who declared that they had never once seen a fairy. Very likely if they said this in the Kensington Gardens, they were standing looking at a fairy all the time. The reason they were cheated was that she pretended to be something else. This is one of their best tricks."

"It is frightfully difficult to know much about the fairies, and almost the only thing known for certain is that there are fairies wherever there are children."

"Every living thing was shunning him. Poor little Peter Pan, he sat down and cried, and even then he did not know that, for a bird, he was sitting on his wrong part. It is a blessing that he did not know, for otherwise he would have lost faith in his power to fly, and the moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it. The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings."

"If you ask your mother whether she knew about Peter Pan when she was a little girl she will say, "Why, of course, I did, child," and if you ask her whether he rode on a goat in those days she will say, "What a foolish question to ask; certainly he did." Then if you ask your grandmother whether she knew about Peter Pan when she was a girl, she also says, "Why, of course, I did, child," but if you ask her whether he rode on a goat in those days, she says she never heard of his having a goat. Perhaps she has forgotten, just as she sometimes forgets your name and calls you Mildred, which is your mother's name. Still, she could hardly forget such an important thing as the goat. Therefore there was no goat when your grandmother was a little girl. This shows that, in telling the story of Peter Pan, to begin with the goat (as most people do) is as silly as to put on your jacket before your vest. Of course, it also shows that Peter is ever so old, but he is really always the same age, so that does not matter in the least."

"Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: always to try to be a little kinder than is necessary?"

"Sometimes the little boy who calls me father brings me an invitation from his mother: "I shall be so pleased if you will come and see me," and I always reply in some such words as these: "Dear madam, I decline." And if David asks why I decline, I explain that it is because I have no desire to meet the woman. "Come this time, father," he urged lately, "for it is her birthday, and she is twenty-six," which is so great an age to David, that I think he fears she cannot last much longer."

"I had been gone a fortnight when the telegram was put into my hands. I had got a letter from my sister, a few hours before, saying that all was well at home. The telegram said in five words that she had died suddenly the previous night. There was no mention of my mother, and I was three days' journey from home. The news I got on reaching London was this: my mother did not understand that her daughter was dead, and they were waiting for me to tell her."

"My mother's favourite paraphrase is one known in our house as David's because it was the last he learned to repeat. It was also the last thing she read — Art thou afraid his power shall fail When comes thy evil day? And can an all-creating arm Grow weary or decay? I heard her voice gain strength as she read it, I saw her timid face take courage, but when came my evil day, then at the dawning, alas for me, I was afraid."

"We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it."

"If the young leddy was so careless o' insulting other folks' ancestors, it proves she has nane o' her ain; for them that has china plates themsel's is the maist careful no to break the china plates of others."

"Let no one who loves be called altogether unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow, and Babbie knew that Gavin loved her. Yet she stood in woe among the stiff berry bushes, as one who stretches forth her hands to Love and sees him looking for her, and knows she must shrink from the arms she would lie in, and only call to him in a voice he cannot hear. This is not a love that is always bitter. It grows sweet with age."

"Your heart is as fresh as your face; and that is well. The useless men are those who never change with the years. Many views that I held to in my youth and long afterwards are a pain to me now, and I am carrying away from Thrums memories of errors into which I fell at every stage of my ministry. When you are older you will know that life is a long lesson in humility."

"The gladness of living was in your step, your voice was melody, and he was wondering what love might be. You were the daughter of a summer night, born where all the birds are free, and the moon christened you with her soft light to dazzle the eyes of man. Not our little minister alone was stricken by you into his second childhood. To look upon you was to rejoice that so fair a thing could be; to think of you is still to be young."

"How often is it a phantom woman who draws the man from the way he meant to go? So was man created, to hunger for the ideal that is above himself, until one day there is magic in the air, and the eyes of a girl rest upon him. He does not know that it is he himself who crowned her, and if the girl is as pure as he, their love is the one form of idolatry that is not quite ignoble. It is the joining of two souls on their way to God. But if the woman be bad, the test of the man is when he wakens from his dream. The nobler his ideal, the further will he have been hurried down the wrong way, for those who only run after little things will not go far. His love may now sink into passion, perhaps only to stain its wings and rise again, perhaps to drown."

"The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it."

""They didna speak, but they just gave one another a look, and I saw the love-light in their een." No more is remembered of these two, no being now living ever saw them, but the poetry that was in the soul of a battered weaver makes them human to us for ever. It is of another minister I am to tell, but only to those who know that light when they see it. I am not bidding good-bye to many readers, for though it is true that some men, of whom Lord Rintoul was one, live to an old age without knowing love, few of us can have met them, and of women so incomplete I never heard."

"The tragedy of a man who has found himself out."

"There are few more impressive sights in the world than a Scotsman on the make."

"Oh, it's — it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it, you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, it doesn't much matter what else you have. Some women, the few, have charm for all; and most have charm for one. But some have charm for none."

"His lordship may compel us to be equal upstairs, but there will never be equality in the servants' hall."

"I'm not young enough to know everything."

"I do loathe explanations."

"Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves."

"One's religion is whatever he is most interested in, and yours is Success."

"Never ascribe to an opponent motives meaner than your own."

"The best of our fiction is by novelists who allow that it is as good as they can give, and the worst by novelists who maintain that they could do much better if only the public would let them."

"As Love can exquisitely bless, Love only feels the marvellous of pain; Opens new veins of torture in the soul, And wakes the nerve where agonies are born."

"To send the injur'd unredress'd away, How great soe'er th' offender, or the wrong'd Howe'er obscure, is wicked—weak and vile: Degrades, denies, and should dethrone a king!"

"True courage scorns To vent her prowess in a storm of words; And, to the valiant, actions speak alone."

"Facts are stubborn things."

"Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye. Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky."

"Those sculptur'd halls my feet shall never tread, Where varnish'd vice and vanity combin'd, To dazzle and seduce, their banners spread, And forge vile shackles for the free-born mind."

"Writing is all a lottery -- I have been a loser by the works of the greatest men of the age."

"Thy fatal shafts unerring move, I bow before thine altar, Love!"

"Keen are the pangs Of hapless love, and passion unapprov'd: But where consenting wishes meet, and vows Reciprocally breath'd, confirm the tie, Joy rolls on joy, an inexhausted stream! And virtue crowns the sacred scene."