A clown needn't be the same out of the ring as he has to be when he's in it. If you look at photographs of clowns when they're just being ordinary men, they've got quite sad faces. Enid Blyton More Quotes by Enid Blyton More Quotes From Enid Blyton I get over a hundred letters a day from all over the world, from children and parents, and it's a wonder I ever have time to write books, let alone speak! Enid Blyton writing book children I am not really much interested in talking to adults, although I suppose practically every mother in the kingdom knows my name and my books. It's their children I love. Enid Blyton mother book children I have written, probably, more books for children than any other writer, from story-books to plays, and can claim to know more about interesting children than most. Enid Blyton play book children My work in books, films and talks lies almost wholly with children, and I have very little time to give to grown-ups. Enid Blyton book lying children Remorse is a terrible thing to bear, Pam, one of the worst of all punishments in this life. To wish undone something you have done, to wish you could look back on kindness to someone you love, instead of on unkindness - that is a very terrible thing. Enid Blyton punishment wish kindness The point is not that I don't recognise bad people when I see them — I grant you I may quite well be taken in by them — the point is that I know a good person when I see one. Enid Blyton taken may people Writing for children is an art in itself, and a most interesting one. Enid Blyton writing children art Oh, I wish I lived in a caravan!’ said Jimmy longingly. ‘How lovely it must be to live in a house that has wheels and can go away down the lanes and through the towns, and stand still in fields at night! Enid Blyton lovely house night They lay on their heathery beds and listened to all the sounds of the night. They heard the little grunt of a hedgehog going by. They saw the flicker of bats overhead. They smelt the drifting scent of honeysuckle, and the delicious smell of wild thyme crushed under their bodies. A reed-warbler sang a beautiful little song in the reeds below, and then another answered. Enid Blyton song beautiful night If one can judge from the letters that I receive, it would seem that there are many thousands of children who would like me to speak or to read to them. Enid Blyton judge me speak children
