J.M. Barrie

“John and Michael raced, Michael getting a start.”

“Peter was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzling rapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that got past his foe's defense, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home”

“Girls are much too clever to fall out of their prams”

“No, no," Mr. Darling always said, "I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. MEA CULPA, MEA CULPA." He had had a classical education.”

“I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go.”

“If he thought at all, but I don't believe he ever thought, it was that he and his shadow, when brought near each other, would join like drops of water...”

“The loveliest tinkle as of golden bells answered him. It is the fairy language. You ordinary children can never hear it, but if you were to hear it you would know that you had heard it once before.”

“A moment after the fairy's entrance the window was blown open by the breathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in.”

“Discipline. That's what fathers believe in. We must spank the children immediately before they try to kill you again. In fact, we should kill them. Wendy: Father. I agree that they are... perfectly horrid, but... kill them and they should think themselves... important. The Lost Boys: So important, Peter. Curly: And unique. Wendy: I, propose something far more dreadful. Medicine. The sticky, sweet kind. The Lost Boys: Kill us, Peter.”

“If you wish it. Slightly: If you wish it? Peter: IF YOU WISH IT.”

“You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.”

“Sir James Matthew Barrie, 1st Baronet OM (9 May 1860 – 19 June 1937), more commonly known as J. M. Barrie, was a Scottish novelist and dramatist. He is best remembered for creating Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up, whom he based on his friends, the Llewelyn Davies boys. He is also credited with popularising the name "Wendy", which was very uncommon before he gave it to the heroine of Peter Pan. He was made a baronet in 1913; his baronetcy was not inherited. He was made a member of the Order of Merit in 1922. Source: Wikipedia”

“The pirates, listening avidly at the mouths of the trees, heard the question put by every boy, and alas, they also heard Peter's answer.”

“Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade.”

“This is absurd. It's just a dog. Just a dog? *Just*? [to Porthos] J.M. Barrie: Porthos, don't listen! [to Peter] J.M. Barrie: Porthos dreams of being a bear, and you want to shatter those dreams by saying he's *just* a dog? What a horrible candle-snuffing word. That's like saying, "He can't climb that mountain, he's just a man", or "That's not a diamond, it's just a rock." Just.”

“It is not in doing what you like, but in liking what you do that is the secret of happiness.”

“Love, it is said, is blind, but love is not blind. It is an extra eye, which shows us what is most worthy of regard. To see the best is to see most clearly, and it is the lover's privilege.”

“None of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour; and as it was to be their last hour on the island, let us rejoice that there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and danced in their night-gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song it was, in which they pretended to be frightened at their own shadows, little witting that so soon shadows would close in upon them, from whom they would shrink in real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, and how they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it! It was a pillow fight rather than a dance, and when it was finished, the pillows insisted on one bout more, like partners who know that they may never meet again. The stories they told, before it was time for Wendy's good-night story! Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, but the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled not only the others but himself, and he said happily:”

“-Pues, ¿no hay ninguna niña entre vosotros?-No. Las niñas son demasiado listas como para caerse de los cochecitos.”

“-¡Y yo no quiero ser nunca mayor!- continuó apasionadamente-, yo quiero ser siempre niño y jugar y divertirme.”

“-Wndy- continuó él con una voz que ningunamujer, ni grande ni pequeña, ha podido todavía capaz de resistir-. Wendy, yo te digo ahora que una niña sola es mucho más útil que veinte muchachos.”

“Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they had met their dead father and had a game with him.”

“Of course they lived at 14 [their house number on their street], and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her. He got all of her, except the innermost box and the kiss. He never knew about the box, and in time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in a passion, slamming the door.”

“What’s your name?’ he asked.‘Wendy Moira Angela Darling,’ she replied with some satisfaction. ‘What is your name?’‘Peter Pan.’She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did seem a comparatively short name.‘Is that all?’‘Yes,’ he said rather sharply. He felt for the first time that it was a shortish name.‘I’m so sorry,’ said Wendy Moira Angela.‘It doesn’t matter,’ Peter gulped.She asked where he lived.‘Second to the right,’ said Peter, ‘and then straight on till morning.’‘What a funny address!’Peter had a sinking feeling. For the first time he felt that perhaps it was a funny address.“A moment after the fairy’s entrance the window was blow open by the breathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in.”

“A woman can be anything the man who loves her would have her be.”

“See," he said, "the arrow struck against this. It is the kiss I gave her. It has saved her life.”

“Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. "Greeting, boys," he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and then again was silence.He frowned."I am back," he said hotly, "why do you not cheer?”

“You are too late," he cried proudly, "I have shot the Wendy. Peter will be so pleased with me."Overhead Tinker Bell shouted "Silly ass!" and darted into hiding.”

“I'm youth, I'm joy!" Peter sang out. "I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg."This, of course, was nonsense; but it was proof to the unhappy Hook that Peter did not know at all who or what he was. This Hook though to be the best of good manners.”

“It may have been quixotic, but it was magnificent.”

“‎She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet smiles.”

“Forever is a very long time Peter”

“The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was that they knew it was make-believe, while to hime make-believe and true were exactly the same thing. This sometimes troubled them, as when they had to make-believe that they had had their dinners.”

“When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, 'Pretty mother, pretty mother.' But when at last she really came, I shot her.”

“Some day,' said Smee, 'the clock will run down, and then he'll get you.'Hook wetted his dry lips, 'Aye,' he said, 'that's the fear that haunts me.”

“So with occasional tiffs, but on the whole rollicking, they drew near the Neverland; for after many moons they did reach it, and, what is more, they had been going pretty straight all the time, not perhaps so much owing to the guidance of Peter or Tink as because the sland was out looking for them. It is only thus that anyone may sight those magic shores.”

“No conocía la melodía, que era «hogar, dulce hogar», pero sabía que estaba diciendo:«Vuelve, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy» y exclamó entusiasmado:-Señora, jamás volverá a ver a Wendy, porque la ventana está cerrada.Volvió a atisbar para ver por qué se había interrumpido la música y entonces vio que la señora Darling había apoyado la cabeza en la caja del piano y que tenía dos lágrimas en los ojos.«Quiere que abra la ventana», pensó Peter, «pero no lo haré, no señor.»Volvió a asomarse y las lágrimas seguían allí, u otras dos que habían ocupado su lugar.-Quiere muchísimo a Wendy-se dijo. Entonces se enfadó con ella por no darse cuenta de por qué no podía tener a Wendy.La razón era tan sencilla:-Yo también la quiero. No podemos tenerla los dos, señora.”

“Peter no era como los demás chicos, pero por fin sentía miedo. Le recorrió unestremecimiento, como un temblor que pasara por el mar, pero en el mar un temblor sucede a otro hasta que hay cientos de ellos y Peter sintió solamente ése. Al momento siguiente estaba de nuevo erguido sobre la roca, con esa sonrisa en la cara y un redoble de tambores en su interior. Éste le decía: «morir será una aventura impresionante.»”

“-Ya sé que querías ser amable -dijo, ablandándose-, así que me puedes dar un beso.Se había olvidado momentáneamente de que él no sabía lo que eran los besos.-Ya me parecía que querrías que te lo devolviera -dijo él con cierta amargura e hizo ademán de devolverle el dedal.-Ay, vaya -dijo la amable Wendy-, no quiero decir un beso, me refiero a un dedal.-¿Qué es eso?-Es como esto. Le dio un beso.-¡Qué curioso! -dijo Peter con curiosidad-. ¿Te puedo dar un dedal yo ahora?-Si lo deseas -dijo Wendy, esta vez sin inclinar la cabeza. Peter le dio un dedal y casi inmediatamente ella soltó un chillido.”

“No sé si habéis visto alguna vez un mapa de la mente de una persona. A veces losmédicos trazan mapas de otras partes vuestras y vuestro propio mapa puede resultar interesantísimo, pero a ver si alguna vez los pilláis trazando el mapa de la mente de un niño, que no sólo es confusa, sino que no para de dar vueltas. Tiene líneas en zigzag como las oscilaciones de la temperatura en un ráfico cuando tenéis fiebre y que probablemente son los caminos de la isla, pues el País de Nunca Jamás es siempre una isla, más o menos, con asombrosas pinceladas de color aquí y allá, con arrecifes de coral y embarcaciones de aspecto veloz en alta mar, con salvajes y guaridas solitarias y gnomos que en su mayoría son sastres, cavernas por las que corre un río, príncipes con seis hermanos mayores, una choza que se descompone rápidamente y una señora muybajita y anciana con la nariz ganchuda. Si eso fuera todo sería un mapa sencillo, pero también está el primer día de escuela, la religión, los padres, el estanque redondo, la costura, asesinatos, ejecuciones, verbos que rigen dativo, el día de comer pastel de chocolate, ponerse tirantes, dime la tabla del nueve, tres peniques por arrancarse un diente uno mismo y muchas cosas más que son parte de la isla o, si no, constituyen otro mapa que se transparenta a través del primero y todo ello es bastante confuso, sobre todo porque nada se está quieto.”

“Two is the beginning of the end.”

“The door', replied Maimie, 'will always, always be open, and mother will always be waiting at it for me.”

“The fairies, as their custom, clapped their hands with delight over their cleverness, and they were so madly in love with the little house that they could not bear to think they had finished it.”

“David tells me that fairies never say 'We feel happy': what they say is, 'We feel dancey'.”

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

“He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up.”

“Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had fainted and lay on the the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up the rock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw that the water was raising, He knew that they would soon be drowned, but he could do no more.As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and began pulling her softly into the water. Peter feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had to tell her the truth."We are on the rock, Wendy," he said, "but it is growing smaller. Soon the water will be over it."She did not understand even now."We must go," she said, almost brightly."Yes," he answered faintly."Shall we swim or fly, Peter?"He had to tell her."Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island, Wendy, without my help?"She had to admit she was too tired.He moaned."What is it?" she asked, anxious about him at once."I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim.""Do you mean we shall both be downed?""Look how the water is raising."They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thought they would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed against Peter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if to say timidly, "Can I be of any us?" It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. It had torn itself out of his hand and floated away."Michael's kite," Peter said without interest, but the next moment he had seized the tail, and was pulling the kite towards him."It lifted Michael off the ground," he cried; "why should it not carry you?""Both of us!""It can't left two; Michael and Curly tried.""Let us draw lots," Wendy said bravely."And you a lady; never." Already he had tied the tail round her. She clung to him; she refused to go without him; but with a "Good-bye, Wendy." he pushed her from the rock; and in a few minutes she was borne out of his sight. Peter was alone on the lagoon.The rock was very small now; soon it would be submerged. Pale rays of light tiptoed across the waters; and by and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon.”

“Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.”

“She adored all beautiful things in their every curve and fragrance, so that they became part of her. Day by day, she gathered beauty; had she had no heart (she who was the bosom of womanhood) her thoughts would still have been as lilies, because the good is the beautiful.”

“He was so full of wrath against grown-ups, who as usual, were spoiling everything, that as soon as he got inside his tree he breathed intentionally quick short breaths at the rate of about five to a second. He did this because there is a saying in the Neverland, that everytime you breathe, a grown-up dies; and Peter was killing them of vindictively as fast as possible.”