James M. Barrie
James M. Barrie
Sir James Matthew Barrie, 1st Baronet, OMwas a Scottish novelist and playwright, best remembered today as the creator of Peter Pan. He was born and educated in Scotland but moved to London, where he wrote a number of successful novels and plays. There he met the Llewelyn Davies boys, who inspired him to write about a baby boy who has magical adventures in Kensington Gardens, then to write Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, a "fairy play"...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth9 May 1860
James M. Barrie quotes about
bride good jealousy wishes
That is ever the way. 'Tis all jealousy to the bride and good wishes to the corpse.
loves unhappy
Let no one who loves be called unhappy Even love unreturned has its rainbow.
lets likes man
Every man who is high up likes to think that he has done it all himself, and the wife smiles and lets it go at that.
weapons blades temper
Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade.
kindness littles milk
He who distributes the milk of human kindness cannot help but spill a little on himself.
scotland sight world
There are few more impressive sights in the world than a Scotsman on the make.
death dying best-place
The best place a person can die, is where they die for others.
neverland happened happens
All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.
facts relief reluctance
Facts were never pleasing to him. He acquired them with reluctance and got rid of them with relief. He was never on terms with them until he had stood them on their heads.
responsible said darling
No, no," Mr. Darling always said, "I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. MEA CULPA, MEA CULPA." He had had a classical education.
waiting
Just always be waiting for me.
neverland crocodiles chasing
I suppose it's like the ticking crocodile, isn't it? Time is chasing after all of us.
kings examination want
...it was like an examination paper that asks grammar, when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.
daughter years golden
Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash.