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From Peter Pan and Wendy:

Peter: Wendy, I ran away the day I was born. It was because I heard father and mother, talking about what I was to be when I became a man. I don’t want ever to be a man. I want always to be a little boy and to have fun. So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived a long long time among the fairies.


Peter: You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. And so, there ought to be one fairy for every boy and girl. […] You see children know such a lot now, they soon don’t believe in fairies, and every time a child says, ‘I don’t believe in fairies,’ there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead. I can’t think where Tink has gone to – Tink! […] She was here just now. You don’t hear her, do you? […] Wendy, I do believe I shut her up in the drawer! (He lets poor Tink out of the drawer, and she flies about the nursery screaming with fury.) You shouldn’t say such things, Tink. Of course I’m very sorry, but how could I know you were in the drawer? 

From A Year with Frog and Toad:

: Frog? Frog? I have come to surprise you with a fine lunch of iced tea and sandwiches. Oh look, there is a note. “Dear Toad, I am not at home, I went to the island in the lake to be alone.” He wants to be alone? He has me for a friend. Why would he want to be alone? He must be very sad. What can I do? I should bring him a surprise to cheer him up. What can I bring? I know, lunch. I will bring him this fine lunch of sandwiches and iced tea.

: It’s Christmas Eve. The fire is burning. The hot chocolate is ready. But Frog is late. At least I think he is late. But, he must be late. It has been dark for a very long time. Maybe something has happened to him. Maybe something bad. Maybe something terrible. Maybe he is lost in the dark and he cannot find his way and he is cold and shivering. Or maybe, he is stuck at the bottom of a hole and he cannot get out and he is cold and shivering. Or maybe, he is being chased by a wolf and he’s running as fast as he can and well, he wouldn’t be cold and shivering, because when you run it warms you up, but that is not the point. The point is that Frog may be in terrible danger. I must do something. I must help my friend. I must get a lamp and a rope and a frying pan.

From Bridge to Terabithia:

: Creek, huh? A magic secret country with a creek? I don’t like the sound of that. Let’s call it a river. And we’ll have our place over there – I know! It could have a magic entrance like Narnia. The only way you can get in is by swinging across on this enchanted rope. Come on! This might be a good place. How about right here? […] I claim you and name you – Tera… Terabithia. […] Terabithia. And we are the rulers.

: It’s gone. Terabithia’s gone. There’s nothing here. Leslie, come back. Don’t leave me here by myself. I don’t know how to make the magic come. I’m scared, Leslie. This is a time of great sorrow. The King must go to the Sacred Grove. Come, O Terabithians. We must have a procession for our Queen. Father, into Thy hands I commend her spirit.

From Charlotte’s Web:

Wilbur: What did he see? There’s nothing here but me. That’s it! He saw me! He saw that I’m big and healthy and… and ready to be made into… ham. They’re coming out here right now with guns and knives. I just know it. What can I do? Wait! The fence that Lurvy patched up. Maybe it’s loose again. I have to get out. I have no choice. It’s either freedom… or the frying pan. […] Now, I’m ready. I’m breaking out of this prison. They’ll never take me alive! What am I saying? I’ve got to get out of here. Chaaarrrge!

From The Secret Garden:

Martha: Art tha’ thinkin’ about th’ garden yet? I knew tha’ would. That was just th’ same with me when I first heard about it. […] Mind, Mrs. Medlock said it’s not to be talked about. That’s Mr. Craven’s orders. His troubles are none servants’ business, he says. But for the garden, he wouldn’t be like he is. It was Mrs. Craven’s garden that she had made when first they were married, an’ she just loved it, an’ they used to tend the flowers themselves. Him an’ her used to go in an’ shut th’ door an’ stay there hours an’ hours. An’ she was just a bit of a girl, an’ there was an old tree branch bent like a seat on it. An’ she made roses grow over it, an’ she used to sit there. But one day when she was sittin’ there, th’ branch broke, an’ she fell on th’ ground an’ was hurt so bad that the next day she died. Th’ doctors thought he’d go out o’ his mind an’ die too. That’s why he hates it. No one’s gone in since, an’ he won’t let anyone talk about it.

: How still it is. How still. No wonder it is still. I am the first one who has spoken in here for ten years. Well, perhaps not the first one. That must be Mrs. Craven’s tree! I wonder if it’s all a quite dead garden. I wish it wasn’t. Yes, there are tiny growing things, and they might be crocuses or snowdrops or daffodils. It isn’t quite a dead garden. Even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive. Now, they look as if they could breathe. It’s time for dinner already. I shall come back this afternoon. I shall come back.

From The Best Christmas Pageant Ever:

: I didn’t dare raise my hand. Imogene would have killed me! She said, “I’m going to be Mary in this play, and if you open your mouth or raise your hand you’ll wish you didn’t.” And I said, “I’m always Mary in the Christmas pageant.” And she said, “Go ahead then, and next spring when the pussywillows come out I’ll stick a pussywillow so far down your ear that nobody can reach it… and it’ll sprout there and grow and grow, and you’ll spend the rest of your life with a pussywillow bush growing out of your ear!” […] She would too! Herdmans will do anything. You just watch, they’ll do something terrible and ruin the whole pageant… and it’s all your mother’s fault!