Quotes About Innocence

You make me believe in fairies, whether I will or no, he told her, and that means youth. As long as you believe in fairies you can't grow old.

There is such a place as fairyland—but only children can find the way to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way.

Well, one can't get over the habit of being a little girl all at once," said Anne gaily. "You see, I was little for fourteen years and I've only been grown-uppish for scarcely three. I'm sure I shall always feel like a child in the woods.

The Haunted Wood was a harmless, pretty spruce grove in the field below the orchard. We considered that all our haunts were too commonplace, so we invented this for our own amusement.

Anne, on her way to Orchard Slope, met Diana, bound for Green Gables, just where the mossy old log bridge spanned the brook below the Haunted Wood, and they sat down by the margin of the Dryad's Bubble, where tiny ferns were unrolling like curly-headed green pixy folk wakening up from a nap.

lads who were to fight, and perhaps fall, on the fields of France and Flanders, Gallipoli and Palestine, were still roguish schoolboys with a fair life in prospect before

Mrs Spencer said it was wicked of me to talk like that, but I didn't mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it?

Ah yes, you're young enough not to be afraid of perfect things.

It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it? ------------------------- You'd find it easier to be bad than good if you had red hair ------------------------- "Kindred spirits alone do not change with the changing years.

L.M. Montgomery

The shadow of the Great Conflict had not yet made felt any forerunner of its chill. The lads who were to fight, and perhaps fall, on the fields of France and Flanders, Gallipoli and Palestine, were still roguish schoolboys with a fair life in prospect before them: the girls whose hearts were to be wrung were yet fair little maidens a-star with hopes and dreams. Slowly

There's something taking about her, conceded Miss Cornelia. You never see her but she's laughing, and somehow it always makes you want to laugh too. She can't even keep a straight face in church. Una is ten—she's a sweet little thing—not pretty, but sweet. And Thomas Carlyle is nine. They call him Carl, and he has a regular mania for collecting toads and bugs and frogs and bringing them into the house.

We could not really believe that Peter was going to die—to DIE. Old people died. Grown-up people died. Even children of whom we had heard died. But that one of US—of our merry little band— should die was unbelievable. We could not believe it. And yet the possibility struck us in the face like a blow. We sat on the mossy stones under the dark old evergreens and gave ourselves up to wretchedness. We all, even Dan, cried, except the Story Girl.

and Jerry and I—round and round the world. Listen— listen—can't you hear his wild music? The girls shivered. You know you're only pretending, protested Mary Vance, and I wish you wouldn't.

she remembered them kindly, for there was a sweetness in boys that didn't last long, once they became men.

Best to help such boys have their moment of fun, before life's torments snatched them.

Occasionally the very youngness of the young moved him to charity—they had no sense of the swiftness of life, nor of its limits.

En gang må jo være den første, ikke sant? - Jeg trodde nesten jeg var for gammal til det. - Til hva? - Til at noe er første gang.

during her childhood Tita didn't distinguish between tears of laughter and tears of sorrow. For her, laughing was a form of crying.

Carefully studying the delicate form of the doll, she was thinking how easy it was to wish for things as a child. Then nothing seemed impossible. Growing up, one realizes how many things one cannot wish for, the things that are forbidden, sinful. Indecent.

durante su niñez Tita no diferenciaba bien las lágrimas de la risa de las del llanto. Para ella reír era una manera de llorar. De

Observando detenidamente las delicadas formas del muñeco, pensaba lo fácil que era desear cosas durante la niñez. Entonces no hay imposibles. Cuando uno crece se da cuenta de todo lo que no se puede desear porque es algo prohibido, pecaminoso. Indecente.

Where's my little half-pint of sweet cider half drunk up?

Mary was bigger than Laura, and she had a rag doll named Nettie. Laura had only a corncob wrapped in a handkerchief, but it was a good doll. It was named Susan. It wasn't Susan's fault that she was only a corncob. Sometimes Mary let Laura hold Nettie, but she did it only when Susan couldn't see.