“As Maia turned to go, hardly believing that there could be such happiness, she heard a loud splash. Miss Minton was leaning over the side, watching the parcel she had held on her knees floating away downriver. “What was that?”… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“The children slept late, and washed and dressed almost in silence. Both of them were afraid to speak. Maia packed her belongings in an old canvas bag and stroked the dog. “I’ll come over in a minute to say good-bye,”… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“They had reached Euston station. Miss Minton waved her umbrella at a porter, and Maia’s trunk and her suitcase were lifted onto a trolley.… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“Muriel sprinkled salt over her haddock mousse. ‘It is not easy to be specific, but both morally and hygienically there is . . .… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“You’re taking this very well, my boy. Very well indeed. You’re taking it like a man. I confess I expected arguments, even tantrums.” “Well,… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
She stood looking carefully at the labeled portraits Ursala had put up: Little Crow, Chief of the Santees, Geronimo, last of the Apaches, and… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“For the first part of the journey Maia kept her eyes on the side of the road. Now that she was really leaving her… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“She realized that adventures, once they were over, were things that had to stay inside one--that no one else could quite understand.” — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
What are you afraid of then? Not Being able to see, I think not seeing because your obsessed by something that blots out the… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
The sisters worked from dawn to dusk. One of them was an idiot; she started shaving her legs and marrying tax inspectors, so she… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“When we’re grown up I’ll come back for you, I promise. No one can stop us then.” — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
“But in the evening, when at last she had a moment alone, she slipped into the library and leaned her head against the mahogany… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
Please, God,' Ruth would pray, 'don't let me be competitive. Let me realize what a privilege it is to study. Let me remember that… — Eva Ibbotson Copy Share Image
