“Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars.”

“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.”

“Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all. Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown up things again. Never is an awfully long time.”

“Peter,' she asked, trying to speak firmly, 'what are your exact feelings for me?'Those of a devoted son, Wendy.'I thought so,' she said, and went and sat by herself at the extreme end of the room.You are so queer,' he said, frankly puzzled, 'and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother.'No, indeed, it is not,' Wendy replied with frightful emphasis.”

“Wendy," Peter Pan continued in a voice that no woman has ever yet been able to resist, "Wendy, one girl is more use than twenty boys.”

“Build a house?" exclaimed John."For the Wendy," said Curly."For Wendy?" John said, aghast. "Why, she is only a girl!""That," explained Curly, "is why we are her servants.”

“Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John’s, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingos flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents...”