Frances Burnett Quotes & Sayings

Everything's a story - You are a story -I am a story. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Thoughts - just mere thoughts - are as powerful as electric batteries - as good for one as sunlight is, or as bad for one as poison. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Death is always sudden however long one waits. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I pretend I am a princess,so that I can try and behave like one. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

In the garden there was nothing which was not quite like themselves - nothing which did not understand the wonderfulness of what was happening to them - the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking beauty and solemnity of Eggs. If there had been one person in that garden who had not known through all his or her innermost being that if an Egg were taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and crash through space and come to an end ... there could have been no happiness even in that golden springtime air. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She did not care very much for other little girls, but if she had plenty of books she could console herself. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

As she came closer to him she noticed that there was a clean fresh scent of heather and grass and leaves about him, almost as if he were made of them. She liked it very much and when she looked into his funny face with the red cheeks and round blue eyes she forgot that she had felt shy. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The robin was tremendously busy. He was very much pleased to see gardening begun on his own estate. He had often wondered at Ben Weatherstaff. Where gardening is done all sorts of delightful things to eat are turned up with the soil. Now here was this new kind of creature who was not half Ben's size and yet had had the sense to come into his garden and begin at once. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I know what it is to be hungry, and it is very hard when one cannot even pretend it away. -Sara — Frances Hodgson Burnett

THE SECRET GARDEN — Frances Hodgson Burnett

It was a mere matter of seeing common things together and exchanging common speech concerning them, but each was so strongly conscious of the other that no sentence could seem wholly impersonal. There are times when the whole world is personal to a mood whose intensity seems a reason for all things. Words are of small moment when the mere sound of a voice makes an unreasonable joy. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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 ... — Frances Hodgson Burnett

As long as one has a garden, one has a future. As long as one has a future, one is alive. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Dickon says anything will understand if you're friends with it for sure, but you have to be friends for sure. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I am almost ashamed to answer,' she said. 'As I have said before, Emily
Fox-Seton has become the lodestar of my existence. I cannot live without
her. She has walked over to Maundell to make sure that we do not have a
dinner-party without fish to-night.'
'She has _walked_ over to Maundell,' said Lord Walderhurst
'after
yesterday?'
'There was not a pair of wheels left in the stable,' answered Lady
Maria. 'It is disgraceful, of course, but she is a splendid walker, and
she said she was not too tired to do it. It is the kind of thing she
ought to be given the Victoria Cross for
saving one from a dinner-party
without fish.'
The Marquis of Walderhurst took up the cord of his monocle and fixed the
glass rigidly in his eye.
'It is not only four miles to Maundell,' he remarked, staring at the
table-cloth, not at Lady Maria, 'but it is four miles back. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She had begun to wonder why she had never seemed to belong to anyone — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

... Mrs. Warren allowed her book to fall closed upon her lap, and her attractive face awakened to an expression of agreeable expectation, in itself denoting the existence of interesting and desirable qualities in the husband at the moment inserting his latch-key in the front door preparatory to mounting the stairs and joining her. The man who, after twenty-five years of marriage, can call, by his return to her side, this expression to the countenance of an intelligent woman is, without question or argument, an individual whose life and occupations are as interesting as his character and points of view. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true too ... she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place any one could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of climbing roses which were so thick that they were matted together. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

alcoves, and once or twice he sat down — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Adversity tries people, and mine has tried you and proved how nice you are. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Fair fresh leaves, and buds - and buds - tiny at first but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

My mother always says people should be able to take care of themselves, even if they're rich and important. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Them as is not wanted scarce ever thrives. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

When I lie by myself and remember I begin to have pains everywhere and I think of things that make me begin to scream because I hate them so. If there was a doctor anywhere who could make you forget you were ill instead of remembering it I would have him brought here. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

So when she was a sickly, fretful, ugly little baby she was kept out of the way, and when she became a sickly, fretful, toddling thing she was kept out of the way also. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

That afternoon the whole world seemed to devote itself to being perfect and radiantly beautiful and kind to one boy. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Magic in this garden has made me stand up and know I am going to live to be a man. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Hang in there. It is astonishing how short a time it can take for very wonderful things to happen. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Sara saw that privately she could not help hoping very much that they would all be black, and would wear turbans, — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Might I," quavered Mary, "might I have a bit of earth? — Frances Hodgson Burnett

He had made himself believe that he was going to get well, which was really more than half the battle. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Victorian and touchingly respectable. "I have been crying," confessed Lady Agatha. "I was afraid so, Lady Agatha," said Emily. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Perhaps you can feel if you can't hear," was her fancy. "Perhaps kind thoughts reach people somehow, even through windows and doors and walls. Perhaps you feel a little warm and comforted, and don't know why, when I am standing here in the cold and hoping you will get well and happy again. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

And they both began to laugh over nothing as children will when they are happy together. And they laughed so that in the end they were making as much noise as if they had been two ordinary healthy natural ten-year-old creatures - instead of a hard, little, unloving girl and a sickly boy who believed that he was going to die. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I dare say you could live without me, Sara; but I couldn't live without you. I was nearly dead. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

you are going to be sent home....
I 'm glad of it
but where's HOME ? — Frances Hodgson Burnett

But the calm had brought a sort of courage and hope with it. Instead of giving way to thoughts of the worst, he actually found he was trying to believe in better things. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The truth is that when one is still a child-or even if one is grown up- and has been well fed, and has slept long and softly and warm; when one has gone to sleep in the midst of a fairy story, and has wakened to find it real, one cannot be unhappy or even look as if one were; and one could not, if one tried, keep a glow of joy out of one's eyes. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

As long as you have a garden you have a future and as long as you have a future you are alive. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Color of gold. I have short black hair and green eyes; — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Was looked at askance, and that in the bearing of each member of the group there was a defiance of the general opinion. Roxholm sat on his horse somewhat apart from this group watching it, his kinsman and — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The youngest youngster vibrates with the shock of cannon firing, even though the sound may not be near enough to be heard," answered Coombe. "We're all vibrating unconsciously. We are shuddering consciously at the things we hear and are mad to put a stop to, before they go further. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She was a sweet, pretty thing and he'd have walked the world over to get her a blade o' grass she wanted. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

That is the Magic. Being alive is the Magic - being strong is the Magic. The Magic is in me - the Magic is in me. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Why should we expect her to be exactly like ourselves?" Lucia went on. "How can we be sure that our way is better than any other"
from "A Fair Barbarian — Frances Hodgson Burnett

And the roses - the roses! Rising out of the grass, tangled round the sun-dial, wreathing the tree trunks and hanging from their branches, climbing up the walls and spreading over them with long garlands falling in cascades - they came alive day by day, hour by hour. Fair fresh leaves, and buds - and buds - tiny at first but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air. Colin — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. 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. In this garden - in all the places. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Perhaps it is the key to the garden! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

It was a vague belief that she herself was not quite real - or that she did not belong to the life she had been born into. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

There's nothing so strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in - that's stronger. It's a good thing not to answer your enemies. I scarcely ever do. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Perhaps," she said, "to be able to learn things quickly isn't everything. To be kind is worth a great deal to other people. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

How does thee like thyself? — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Mrs. Craven was a very lovely young lady," he had gone on rather hesitatingly. "An' mother she thinks maybe she's about Misselthwaite many a time lookin' after Mester Colin, same as all mothers do when they're took out o' th' world. They have to come back, tha' sees. Happen she's been in the garden an' happen it was her set us to work, an' told us to bring him here." Mary — Frances Hodgson Burnett

We trifle with France and labour with Germany, we sentimentalize over Italy and ecstacise over Spain- but England we love. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Whatever comes cannot alter one thing. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I am growing quite fond of him," she said to Ermengarde; "I should not like him to be disturbed. I have adopted him for a friend. You can do that with people you never speak to at all. You can just watch them, and think about them and be sorry for them, until they seem almost like relations. I'm quite anxious sometimes when I see the doctor call twice a day. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

When new beautiful thoughts began to push out the old hideous ones, life began to come back to him, his blood ran healthily through his veins and strength poured into him like a flood. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books - great, big, fat ones - French and German as well as English - history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

You are nothing but a doll. Nothing but a doll
doll
doll! You care for nothing. You are stuffed with sawdust. You never had a heart. Nothing could ever make you feel. You are a doll! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Pig! Pig! Daughter of Pigs! she said, because to call a native a pig is the worst insult of all. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Imagine, if you can, what the rest of the evening was like. How they crouched by the fire which blazed and leaped and made much of itself in the little grate. How they removed the covers of the dishes, and found rich, hot savory soup, which was a meal in itself, and sandwiches and toast and muffins enough for both of them. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression. Her hair was yellow, and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you're too curious. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

How is it that animals understand things I do not know, but it is certain that they do understand. Perhaps there is a language that is not made up of words & everything in this world understands it. Perhaps there is a soul hidden in everything & it can always speak, without making a sound, to another soul. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Never did she find anything so difficult as to keep herself from losing her temper when she was suddenly disturbed while absorbed in a book. People who are fond of books know the feeling of irritation which sweeps over them at such a moment. The temptation to be unreasonable and snappish is one not easy to manage.
"It makes me feel as if something had hit me," Sara had told Ermengarde once in confidence. "And as if I want to hit back. I have to remember things quickly to keep from saying something ill-tempered. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

On the hob was a little brass kettle, hissing and boiling; spread upon the floor was a warm, thick rug; before the fire was a folding-chair, unfolded and with cushions on it; by the chair was a small folding-table, unfolded, covered with a white cloth, and upon it were spread small covered dishes, a cup and saucer, and a tea-pot; on the bed were new, warm coverings, a curious wadded silk robe, and some books. The little, cold, miserable room seemed changed into Fairyland. It was actually warm and glowing. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

dream - the real - real dream. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

He felt the scent and the golden glow of the sunset light as intensely as he felt the dead silence which reigned between himself and Hester almost with the effect of a physical presence. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She had never been taught to ask permission to do things, and she knew nothing at all about authority, so she would not have thought it necessary to ask Mrs. Medlock if she might walk about the house, even if she had seen her. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

And a man who is six feet three in height has six feet and three inches of evil to do battle with, if he has not six feet three of strength and honesty to fight for him. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

A large house left deserted by those who have filled its rooms with emotions and life, expresses a silence, a quality all its own. A house unfurnished and empty seems less impressively silent. The fact of its devoidness of sound is upon the whole more natural. But carpets accustomed to the pressure of constantly passing feet, chairs and sofas which have held human warmth, draperies used to the touch of hands drawing them aside to let in daylight, pictures which have smiled back at thinking eyes, mirrors which have reflected faces passing hourly in changing moods, elate or dark or longing, walls which have echoed back voices - all these things when left alone seem to be held in strange arrest, as if by some spell intensifying the effect of the pause in their existence. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She knew now why she had come up here. It was so that she might feel like this - as if she was upheld far away from things - as if she had left everything behind - almost as if she had fallen awake again. There was no perfume in the air, but all was still and sweet and clear. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Once when I was givin' th' children a bit of a preach after they'd been fightin' I ses to 'em all, When I was at school my jography told as th' world was shaped like a orange an' I found out before I was ten that th' whole orange doesn't belong to nobody. No one owns more than his bit of a quarter an' there's times it seems like there's not enow quarters to go round. But don't you - none o' you - think as you own th' whole orange or you'll find out you're mistaken, an' you won't find it out without hard knocks. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Magic is in her just as it is in Dickon," said Colin. "It makes her think of ways to do things - nice things. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Nothing is more interesting than repressed emotion. The appearance of sardonic coldness and stoicism which has deceived you is but a hollow mockery; beneath it I secrete a maelstrom of impassioned feeling and a mausoleum of blighted hopes. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

What you have to do with your mind, when your body is miserable, is to make it think of something else. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

He sat down in his chair by the fire and began to chat, as was his habit before he and his wife parted to dress for dinner. When he was out during the day he often looked forward to these chats, and made notes of things he would like to tell his Mary. During her day, which was given to feminine duties and pleasures, she frequently did the same thing. Between seven and eight in the evening they had delightful conversational opportunities. He picked up her book and glanced it over, he asked her a few questions and answered a few ... — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I wish you had a 'little missus' who could pet you as I used to pet papa when he had a headache. I should like to be your 'little missus' myself, poor dear! Good night-good night. God bless you! — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The stillness seemed to hold her and she paused to hear and feel it. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

side with his head up in the air and his eyes full of laughter walked as strongly and steadily as any boy in Yorkshire - Master Colin. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Never thee stop believin' in th' Big Good Thing an' knowin' th' world's full of it - and call it what tha' likes. Tha' wert singin' to it when I come into t' garden. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Mother says as th' two worst things as can happen to a child is never have his own way-- or always to have it. She doesn't know which is th' worst. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books
great, big, fat ones
French and German as well as English
history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. Drag her away from her books when she reads too much. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

And her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay parties. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

But I suppose there might be good in things, even if we don't see it. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Tis a barbaric fancy," said Roxholm thoughtfully as he turned the stem of his glass, keeping his eyes fixed on it as though solving a problem for himself. "A barbaric fancy that a woman needs a master. She who is strong enough is her own conqueror
as a man should be master of himself. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I loved Frances Hodgson Burnett, who wrote 'The Little Princess' and 'The Secret Garden.' And I loved the 'Little House on the Prairie' books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. — Mary Pope Osborne

It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

She herself could not have explained the reasons for her silence; — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Whole monstrosity growing more huge and throwing out new and more awful tentacles every day. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I do not know whether many people realize how much more than is ever written there really is in a story - how many parts of it are never told - how much more really happened than there is in the book one holds in one's hand and pores over. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Two things cannot be in one place. Where you tend a rose, my lad, a thistle cannot grow. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

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 — Frances Hodgson Burnett

The paths and down the avenue, she was stirring her slow blood and making herself stronger — Frances Hodgson Burnett

If you fill your mind with a beautiful thought, there will be no room in it for an ugly one. - King Amor — Frances Hodgson Burnett