-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.
J.M. BarrieLove, 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.
J.M. BarrieMots clés classic literature fiction
Wendy, ein Mädchen ist mehr wert als zwanzig Jungen.
J.M. BarrieMots clés peter-pan wendy mädchen
After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an orgy.
J.M. BarrieMots clés humor books humour funny
She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet smiles.
J.M. BarrieMots clés growing-up love youth reminiscence
It may have been quixotic, but it was magnificent.
J.M. BarrieMots clés individuality
Ambition: it is the last infirmity of noble minds.
J.M. BarrieMots clés ambition mind noble infirmity
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:
J.M. BarrieIt is not in doing what you like, but in liking what you do that is the secret of happiness.
J.M. BarrieThis 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.
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