I think the idea of 'Mary Poppins' has been blowing in and out of me, like a curtain at a window, all… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
When I was a child, love to me was what the sea is to a fish: something you swim in while you… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
My father died when I was 7. I was his favorite child, and he was my beloved father. I brought him along… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
Could it be ... that the hero is one who is willing to set out, take the first step, shoulder something? Perhaps… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
Nothing I had written before 'Mary Poppins' had anything to do with children, and I have always assumed, when I thought about… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
What I want to know is this: Are the stars gold paper or is the gold paper stars? — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
I don't think that children, if left to themselves, feel that there is an author behind a book, a somebody who wrote it. Grown-ups… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
More and more I’ve become convinced that the great treasure to possess is the unknown. — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
I think the idea of 'Mary Poppins' has been blowing in and out of me, like a curtain at a window, all my life. — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
Every child needs to have for itself not only its loving parents and siblings and friends of its own age, but a grown-up friend. — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
I think that 'Mary Poppins' needs a subtle reader, in many respects, to grasp all its implications, and I understand that these cannot be… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
The Irish, as a race, have the oral tradition in their blood. A direct question to them is an anathema, but in other cases,… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
When I was a child, love to me was what the sea is to a fish: something you swim in while you are going… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
A writer is, after all, only half his book. The other half is the reader and from the reader the writer learns. — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down… — P. L. Travers Copy Share Image
