“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.”

“It was then that Hook bit him.Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter.”

“Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly . All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but will never afterwards be the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest.”

“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:”

“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...”

“Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremour ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter felt just the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, "To die will be an awfully big adventure.”

“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.”