Frances Hodgson Burnett Quotes
Top 100 wise famous quotes and sayings by Frances Hodgson Burnett
Frances Hodgson Burnett Famous Quotes & Sayings
Discover top inspirational quotes from Frances Hodgson Burnett on Wise Famous Quotes.
The very fact that she never made an impudent answer seemed to Miss Minchin a kind of impudence in itself.
Folks who make such a fuss about their rights turn them into wrongs sometimes.
(from Behind the White Brick)
(from Behind the White Brick)
There is nothing so nice as supposing. It's almost like being a fairy. If you suppose anything hard enough it seems as if it were real.
Sara saw that privately she could not help hoping very much that they would all be black, and would wear turbans,
Perhaps when her eyes closed the sultriness of the night had changed to the momentary freshness of the turning dawn,
Mistress Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With Silver Bells, and Cockle Shells,
And marigolds all in a row.
How does your garden grow?
With Silver Bells, and Cockle Shells,
And marigolds all in a row.
Everything is made out of Magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us.
What you have to do with your mind, when your body is miserable, is to make it think of something else.
And her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay parties.
Nothing in the world is quite as adorably lovely as a robin when he shows off and they are nearly always doing it.
Perhaps," she said, "to be able to learn things quickly isn't everything. To be kind is worth a great deal to other people.
Why, we are just the same - I am only a little girl like you. It's just an accident that I am not you, and you are not me!
I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden.
There was a clean fresh scent of heather and grass and leaves about him, almost as if he were made of them.
He had made himself believe that he was going to get well, which was really more than half the battle.
Magic is in her just as it is in Dickon," said Colin. "It makes her think of ways to do things - nice things.
It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine, and things pushing up and working under the earth,
her chest began to rise and fall with a quickening of her breath, and her breath quickened because her heart fluttered - as if with her haste.
One marvel of a day he had walked so far that when he returned the moon was high and full and all the world was purple shadow and silver.
However many years she lived, Mary always felt that 'she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow'.
A person who was clever ought to be clever enough not to be unjust or deliberately unkind to anyone.
Two lads an' a little lass just lookin' on at th' springtime. I warrant it'd be better than doctor's stuff.
Victorian and touchingly respectable. "I have been crying," confessed Lady Agatha. "I was afraid so, Lady Agatha," said Emily.
It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before.
Dickon says anything will understand if you're friends with it for sure, but you have to be friends for sure.
We trifle with France and labour with Germany, we sentimentalize over Italy and ecstacise over Spain- but England we love.
Don't let us make it tidy," said Mary anxiously. "It wouldn't seem like a secret garden if it was tidy.
Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?" ...
"It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine ...
"It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine ...
It was a long corridor and it branched into other corridors and it led her up short flights of steps which mounted to others again. There
I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sense enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us
She liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things and telling them to herself.
That afternoon the whole world seemed to devote itself to being perfect and radiantly beautiful and kind to one boy.