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The chestnut's proud, and the lilac's pretty, The poplar's gentle and tall, But the plane tree's kind to the poor dull city - I love him best of all.
E. Nesbit
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E. Nesbit
Age: 65 †
Born: 1858
Born: August 15
Died: 1924
Died: May 4
Author
Poet
Writer
London
England
E. Nesbit
Edith Bland
Pretty
Planes
Poor
Tall
Best
Dull
Kind
Gentle
Poplar
Love
City
Chestnut
Proud
Chestnuts
Tree
Lilac
Cities
Plane
More quotes by E. Nesbit
I think everyone in the world is friends if you can only get them to see you don't want to be un-friends.
E. Nesbit
It is all very wonderful and mysterious, as all life is apt to be if you go a little below the crust, and are not content just to read newspapers and go by the Tube Railway, and buy your clothes ready-made, and think nothing can be true unless it is uninteresting.
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Then suddenly Jack was a changed boy. Something wonderful had happened to him, and it had made him different. It sometimes happened to people that they see or hear something quite wonderful and then they are never altogether the same again.
E. Nesbit
There are brown eyes in the world, after all, as well as blue, and one pair of brown that meant heaven to me as the blue had never done
E. Nesbit
There is a curtain, thin as gossamer, clear as glass, strong as iron, that hangs forever between the world of magic and the world that seems to us to be real.
E. Nesbit
There is nothing more luxurious than eating while you read - unless it be reading while you eat. Amabel did both: they are not the same thing, as you will see if you think the matter over.
E. Nesbit
Also she had the power of silent sympathy. That sounds rather dull, I know, but it's not so dull as it sounds. It just means that a person is able to know that you are unhappy, and to love you extra on that account, without bothering you by telling you all the time how sorry she is for you.
E. Nesbit
There is no bond like the bond of having read and liked the same books.
E. Nesbit
A red, red rose, all wet with dew, With leaves of green by red shot through.
E. Nesbit
It is a curious thing that people only ask if you are enjoying yourself when you aren't.
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One of the uses of poetry - one says it to oneself in distressing circumstances, ... or when one has to wait at railway stations, or when one cannot get to sleep at night.
E. Nesbit