Best 22 quotes in «lost boys quotes» category

As they grew sloppier and less alert, the twins argued too loudly about whether Tiger Lily was ugly or beautiful, and finally agreed that she was "ugly beautiful". Tiger Lily pretended she hadn't heard, but her heart slowed to absorb the blow.

But without William K, I would have forgotten that I had not been born on this journey. That I had lived before this.

Come on, Jamie, follow me. Follow me and you’ll never grow up!” I took one step, and then another, and then I was inside and the earth seemed to close all around me.

All children grow up, or they die, or both. All children, except one.

Because Peter promised them adventures and happiness and then took them away to the island where they died. They weren’t forever young, unless dying when you were young kept you that way for always.

I’ll leave it all behind until the dark takes me.

For the lost boys, and the girls who find them.

I only wanted them near me because I loved them. Though, of course, it was because I loved them that Peter had to take them from me.

I'm not going to let anyone Wendy me." "Wendy you? What the hell does that mean?"Talbot asked. "Wendy, from Peter Pan! Peter and the lost boys set to go off fighting pirates while Wendy has to stay back and clean their stupid tree house. We'll, I'm not doing it. I'm fighting for my baby brother and that's final.

It’s not such a wonderful thing, to be young,” I said. “It’s heartless, and selfish.” “But, oh, so free,” Nod said sadly. “So free when you have no worries or cares.

It's terrible never to find a father in a world chock-full of fathers of all sorts.

I didn’t believe him at first, about the island, though.” “I didn’t either,”I said. “I don’t know that anyone does. It sounds like a fantastic lie.” “It is a fantastic lie,” Sal said, and her face was very earnest. “This isn’t a wonderful place for boys to play and have adventures and stay young for always. It’s a killing place, and we’re all just soldiers in Peter’s war.

It was Peter’s island, Peter who’d brought us here, and in the back of every boy’s mind was some form of the same thought— He could send me back, if he wanted.

Summer on the farm was glorious. Peter spent as much time out of doors as possible, and he had many playmates, since all the children were free from their spring and autumn duties of tending crops or going to school. Peter had become the leader of a merry band of youngsters, aged six to fourteen, who followed the Wild Boy wherever he went and seemed to understand his unintelligible noises. If they did not understand, then they pretended to. The life of a princess has many advantages, but I envied those children for their time with Peter and for what seemed to me to be a simple, carefree existence.

There’s nothing worse than having a fit and no one giving you the proper attention for it.

Sometimes at night, when the nightmare clung to me, I wondered if Peter’s assurances that I would never grow up were only assurances that I would die before such a thing happened. I wondered if that were better, to die before I became something withered and grey and not wanted.

Was this, too, part of growing up? Was it facing the bad things you’d done as well as the good, and knowing all your mistakes had consequences? Peter made mistakes all the time— he was thoughtless; he hurt people. But it never troubled him, not for a moment. He forgot all about it in an instant. That was being a boy.

There is the scent too. Wonder follows it; wonder about how a boy can smell like that when he probably has no idea. He smells like the woods in the winter or the rain when it first falls, or maybe it’s just the way he always smells and there is no way to define it.

We were still children, for all that we thought we weren’t. We were in that in-between place, the twilight between childish things and grown-up things.

Peter had just forgotten, the way that Peter did forget about anything that wasn’t right in front of him at the moment.

They all thought they were special, but only I was. I was first and none of them could take that from me. I was first and best and last and always.

Yes, because it’s obviously better if you beat each other to death with rocks instead of stabbing each other like civilized human beings,” Sal muttered, looking away.